


Miami Vices

by ectocooler, quantumdot



Series: Miami Vices [1]
Category: All Elite Wrestling, Being The Elite (Web Series), Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst, Best Friends to Lovers? thinking emoji, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Body Horror, Body Worship, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Gods, Grim Reapers, Human/Monster Romance, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Miami is a hellmouth nbd, Multi, Mutual Pining, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Resurrection, Sex Magic, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Strangers to Lovers, Supernatural Elements, TGI Fridays, The Fates - Freeform, Trans Male Character, Trans Man Chuck Taylor, Trypophobia Warning, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vampires, Waffle House, and they were ROOMMATES, cw: suicidal ideation, demon Young Bucks, grim reaper Adam Page, more like losers to lovers, sad cowboy emoji, the bucks are ridiculous cartoons who love kenny very much, trans man Jon Moxley, trans man Kenny Omega, trans masc authors, vampire Cody Rhodes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 114,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27532876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectocooler/pseuds/ectocooler, https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumdot/pseuds/quantumdot
Summary: It all starts when a very lonely Kenny Omega tries to give his new, hot neighbor some beer. That's what being neighborly is, right? What he gets is so, so much more than he bargained for. The war for Miami's corrupted soul is just beginning... and Kenny doesn't know the half of it.
Relationships: "Hangman" Adam Page/Cody Rhodes, Adam Cole/Other(s), Aleister Black | Tommy End/Zelina Vega | Rosita, Britt Baker/Tanea Brooks | Rebel, Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Eddie Kingston, Kenny Omega/Adam Page, Kevin Owens | Kevin Steen/Sami Zayn | El Generico, Matt Jackson/Kenny Omega, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Past Kota Ibushi/Kenny Omega, Trent Barreta & Chuck Taylor, Trent Barreta & Chuck Taylor & Orange Cassidy, Trent Barreta/Chuck Taylor
Series: Miami Vices [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015768
Comments: 80
Kudos: 46





	1. Death

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Temporary Character Death, car accident
> 
> We hope this provides some good salve after Full Gear. Please enjoy these ridiculous, hopeless men.  
>    
> **Ephemera**
> 
> \- [hellmouth sounds](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/56asc77YvzLKD0y7UYFSHc?si=vIs3FQQSRtemYW6TLh-ToQ), a Spotify playlist for the soundtrack of Miami Vices  
> \- [death fight reap repeat](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0wFpmxFNGRIIr2aphFcGVM?si=4fx-kxsbSN-8rdU2sD1Ezg), one just for Hangman/Kenny  
> \- A [map](https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/1/edit?mid=1OOCfQ5_2QnWPz9StBfy9qeQC6KSJm_wV&usp=sharing) of important locations in our Miami

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 1: Death**

Miami is a cesspool.

It’s a pretty piss poor thing to say about a place and Adam Page knows it. 

But it is. 

Actually, he really shouldn’t be one to talk. He’s not doing much better than anyone else, he thinks as he carries a brown paper bag from the liquor store from around the corner in his arms. His hair is tied up in a messy bun, a stray curl or two tucked behind his ear, the walk up to the second floor of the complex of condos making him sweat. The difference between Virginia and Florida, Adam thinks, besides literally _everything_ , is that it’s always so fucking humid here. It’s kinda funny that he carries the title he does and still has a sweat patch the size of Texas blossoming on his back. Adam balances the bag in one hand as he fishes for his keys in his shorts pocket with the other, tongue peeking out as he struggles for a moment. 

“Fuckin’ come on…” He huffs out a grumbled whisper before he finally pulls them free. He just wants a cold beer. He feels like he needs it desperately. The death omens on the way to and from his condo hang over his head, but he’s trying to ignore them. Adam has a bad feeling the night is going to be busy and long; and he knows he’ll have to spend the fair share of it separating spirits from their bodies and trying to find words for people who ask too many questions. The thought of it makes him bone tired. He gives a satisfied grunt of triumph as he finally sticks the key in the lock and almost jumps when he hears a door slam from behind him. Of course he’d have noisy fucking neighbors. He distinctly doesn’t turn around, focused on getting inside as quickly as possible without anyone trying to start a conversation with him.

It’s unfortunately not that easy. 

“Hey, uh, do you drink?” It’s an innocuous enough question… but not one someone would normally ask of their neighbor. The man in front of Adam looks like his idea of fashion stopped progressing in the 80s--string tanktop and grey mesh shorts, an expanse of curly blonde hair shaped into what can only favorably be described as a _mullet_ , and stubble covering an action-hero jaw.

Even just staring for a second knocks Adam off his game, and all thought’s of pushing open the door and running inside are both intensified and driven into the back of his mind. 

“Uh--” It’s all he can manage in a moment. “Yeah I’m just---couldn’t get my keys out of my pocket. This,” Adam manages to heft the bag in his hand weakly in some sort of forward gesture that makes him feel like an idiot. “Beer for later tonight.”

“Right, uh, so. A friend of mine left some beer in my apartment? And I don’t drink, so I was kinda thinking you might like it. If you do drink. Which you do.” There’s a strange kind of magnetism in the air right now, a tension that could light a spark. It’s not quite like the death omens, and it’s definitely not the humidity, but it isn’t far off those things either. It sets Adam’s nerves on fire. It’s the only way to describe it the longer he sits with the feeling. 

“Oh.” He finally shakes out of his trance and gets enough sense in him to put his own bag down on the sidewalk for a moment. “Sure.” A beat. “So you’re my neighbor, I guess?” Adam can almost see his brain ticking off the boxes of the stupidest things he could say in this situation. He tries to ignore it. “I’m Adam.” he finally sticks his hand out for a handshake. Cordial as always, cowboy.

“Kenny.” The other man looks at first the hand, then back straight in Adam’s eyes with his own bright blue ones, before he takes Adam’s hand, and the equivalent of a shock passes through Adam as he sees the man’s entire life, and what can only be visions of the future… of them working together. Of leather jackets, mirrored aviators, and apocalyptic fire.

Adam jerks his hand back with a low gasp, holding it like he’s just touched an electrical socket or a live wire. The air feels ten times thicker with humidity now and he takes as deep a breath as possible before he speaks again. “What the fuck.”

“I--” The other man looks at him blankly, blinking a few times. “Dude, what the _fuck_?”

“What do you mean _what the fuck?_ That was you, wasn’t it? It’s like I just licked a damn battery.” Adam tries to get a hold of himself, but the urge to run inside and slam the door behind him is only pushed down by the opposite magnetic feeling hanging in the air. He doesn’t like the way it makes him feel. Not one bit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I sure as hell… that wasn’t just static electricity. And I’ve never had a seizure before in my life...” Kenny looks a little unsteady on his feet, before they just totally give way and he slides down, ending up half-sitting, half-laying as he laughs tiredly.

_“Jesus.”_ Every thought holding him back blinks out of Adam’s mind as instinct takes over. He’s by Kenny’s side in a moment, joining him on the ground to make sure he stays upright. He’s always been a bleeding heart, it’s why his job is so hard for him. “Maybe just explain to me what’s going on and _don’t_ fuckin’ pass out.” He shouldn’t be touching him again after a second ago, but he keeps him steady and upright with his hands splayed across his back. 

Kenny just laughs more. “I don’t know… what’s going on…” He leans into Adam’s hands like they’re a lifeline--solid, reassuring, and _good_. It’s a heady feeling, to keep someone grounded even when it looks like their head is spinning. That’s something, at least. 

“Well, what the hell did you see?” Adam doesn’t want to ask, but he can’t help himself. He keeps his hands on Kenny, compelled to do so, but he tells himself it’s just because he wants to make sure the man is alright. When you meet a stranger for the first time, you usually don’t get handsy with them. At least Adam doesn’t. 

“I…” Kenny laughs again, rubbing at his face with his hands. “I don’t _know_ what I saw. A flash of white?” He shakes his head. “No, that wasn’t it… I don’t know. I don’t know…”

Adam isn’t sure how Kenny (he feels awfully familiar for someone he just met) is worse off than him after that transfer of energy, but he must be.. “Let’s get you back to your house.” He plows through his anxiety, focusing on helping Kenny up and getting him some place that isn’t in the middle of the sidewalk in the oppressive humidity. He manages to balance them and throws Kenny’s arm over his shoulder.

“There’s beer there. That you can have,” Kenny says weakly, as if he feels the need to remind himself why he came over to Adam in the first place. At the same time, he clings to Adam with that arm, like he’s just as worn down physically as Adam feels mentally.

“Not worried about the beer right now.” Even though Adam wants to be. They shuffle forward and past the little palm tree that’s planted just outside of Kenny’s door. He takes a chance that the door is unlocked and keeps his grip steady on the man leaning on him while he fiddles with the door knob and finally pushes it open.

Kenny walks with him, his head pointed down to watch his feet one in front of the other, and he finally grabs at the couch to collapse on it with a relieved-sounding sigh. “Don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Do you need me to call someone?” Adam asks, staring as Kenny slides onto the couch like he’s made out of liquid. “Because...I am not very good at…” He makes a gesture, like Kenny is looking at him and that it might actually make sense if he was. It doesn’t. “This…” He trails off.

“No, but… you can stop looking so sad? I’m sure I’ll be fine, just... need to watch me in case this is a seizure…” He rolls his head over on the side of the couch. It’s a drearily white apartment, the only signs someone lives here being the scattered gym shorts and blender bottles in a corner of the living room. Adam wonders for a moment if Kenny just moved in too. He settles himself on the arm of the couch, paper bag full of beer forgotten on the sidewalk outside.

  
  
“I’m not tryin’ to look sad and I'm pretty sure you’re not gonna die because I’d know that.” He’d usually keep his mouth shut, but he can’t deny something passed between them outside. “So what? You just move here too?” Why is everything so empty?

“Lived here for… 6 months now? I think.” A beat. “Never said I was gonna _die_ , cowboy. Just. Seizure.”

Adam’s never dealt with someone who might have had a seizure before, but he’s pretty sure if the roles were reversed he wouldn’t be so god damn snippy. “I was just sayin’ considering you fuckin’ melted on the sidewalk outside like an ice cream cone in 90 degree heat.” He tries to reel in his accent that's slipping out a little. “I'd just know if something bad was gonna happen to you,” he mumbles. “That’s all. So don’t worry.” 

“You’d know?” Kenny arches a very blond eyebrow. “I thought you said you were bad at first aid. So which is it? I mean. I’m just confused. Sorry. Thank you for, uh, scooping me off the sidewalk.”

“I _am_ bad at first aid.” Adam says dryly before running a hand through his hair. “Look. You really don’t remember _anything_ you saw when you shook my hand?” If he doesn't have to explain, he won't. It’s a longshot anyway. 

“What do you mean, saw? You keep… okay, hold on, back the fuck up. What do you think I saw? Other than the white flash I mentioned before.” 

“I don’t know! I saw fire and…” Adam stops himself. “Listen, maybe I should have one of those beers.” He’s never touched anyone that’s given him any sort of feeling like that. Not even someone who was about to die. 

“Yeah, sure, they’re,” Kenny gestures losely back over his head. “They’re in the fridge. Shouldn’t be hard to find. _Fire… what the hell?_ ” The last part is meant to be under his breath, but Adam hears it anyway. He tries to ignore it. At least beer usually helps to clear his mind, which is what he’s trying to zero in on now. He slides off the arm of the couch easily, glancing back at Kenny as he walks to the kitchen and is only greeted with more white and empty space. _Germaphobe,_ he thinks. 

The beer is startlingly easy to find in the fridge because it’s almost the only thing in there, aside from some questionable tupperware, milk, and a tub of pre-workout enhancement something or other.

When he gets back, Kenny appears to have fallen asleep, and... now that Adam has a chance to look at him properly, he’s really an unfairly attractive man to be saddled with watching over. As he stares, something clicks in his mind. Are you supposed to let people who might have had some sort of episode fall asleep? Or is that only concussions. Well… at least he looks peaceful enough... and if he stays asleep, Adam won’t have to deal with any more probing questions about how he knows Kenny is going to be okay, or what exactly it was that sparked between them.

“Fuckin’ weird.” Adam cracks the beer in his hand open and takes a long drink. 

\--

Kenny hasn’t seen Adam around for weeks. When he woke up, the beer was gone from his fridge, and even when he creeps next to his peephole watching Adam’s door (which he doesn’t do that often! Honest!) he doesn’t see anything. It’s like this weird neighbor who maybe saved his life is a ghost.

And playing Warzone with randoms is not enough to truly distract him.

He doesn’t even have a phone number or a note. For fuck’s sake. Aren’t handsome cowboys who save your life supposed to leave a note? Again, not that Kenny’s read any stories like that on his Kindle.

Not at all.

It makes him want to do something reckless. Like, truly reckless. He’s made enough from selling off the rights to the video game he made after dropping out of college that he can live off the money forever… but he’s always thought about getting a motorcycle and a matching leather jacket. Right now, he needs just about anything to distract him from this itchy feeling that crawls up his spine whenever he thinks about his absentee neighbor.

“Kenny. Earth to Kenny.” The voice is far away for a moment and then Kenny realizes it’s just because he’s zoned out. “KENNY.” Nick shouts at him from the kitchen. “Are you thinking about your neighbor again? Because if you are, I’m just gonna go over there and tell him you’ve been thinking about him to break the ice.”

“Pffyeah, good _luck_ ,” Kenny says, rolling his eyes. “And no, for your in _for_ MAtion, I was thinking about buying a... motorcycle.”

“Ohhh.” Matt chimes in. “So you’re going to go buy a motorcycle so you stop thinking about your neighbor. Got it.” 

“I didn’t say that! You put those words in my mouth, not me. I swear, I know you two are my best friends, but if I didn’t know better I’d say you only come here to torment me.” Kenny sighs before reaching into the fridge and mixing himself up a shake.

“No. We come here to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.” Nick retorts, leaning against the austere white countertop. “Did you eat today? How about slept for more than 4 hours?” Kenny can tell he’s eyeing the shake in his hand like if he could just wish it away, he would. “You know that’s not food, right?”

“It’s food. It’s calories. That’s all food is,” comes Kenny’s well-worn retort. “I guess I could order something, but I have to be careful with my macros.” Maybe if he gives the brothers one here, they’ll not notice that he’s not answering the rest of their questions.

“Let’s go get something.” Matt puts his hand on Kenny’s arm. “Just the three of us. Then you can tell us all about this motorcycle idea of yours and we won’t ask you about the cowboy across the street again.”

“Fine, but it better be something healthy. Because the last time you convinced me to go out to eat, you _also_ managed to convince me to eat an entire box of Skittles at the movies afterwards, and that just isn’t okay right now.” He eyes both Matt and Nick suspiciously.

“Got it, boss. No Skittles.” Matt smiles at him and something about it leaves Kenny slightly unsettled. He doesn’t have time to think about it too much as Nick practically peels the protein shake out of his hand and Matt steers him back in the direction of the living room and the front door. “So lets get your shoes on and go.” 

“Shouldn’t I, oh I don’t know, take a shower?”

“Nah. We’ll grab something and be right back. Then you can take a shower and maybe get some sleep.” Nick nudges him. It’s hard to know how transparent he is when it comes to this kind of stuff. The brothers always seem to see right through him.

Kenny tries to surreptitiously smell himself. “...I guess if we go to a Waffle House or something I’ll probably be fine.”

  
  
“Great idea!” Matt ushers him toward his shoes at the front door.

\--

“You know, when I said we could go to a Waffle House, I wasn’t actually serious.” Kenny blearily takes in the… ambiance around them. “I’ve never even been to one before.”

“Just sit down, Kenny.” Matt nearly pulls him into a booth, and before he can react, Nick slides in on the other side to bracket him in. Like if he tried to make a run for it, they would stop him before he has the chance. “You needed to get out of the house, so we took the initiative and made sure it happened.” 

“Besides,” Nick says and he’s not even looking at him, focused on the plastic coated menu on the table. “You’ll like it.” 

“This looks like my old hockey coach’s playsheet,” Kenny says, looking over the menu. “Waffles... waffles... pancakes... oh, smothered hash browns...”

“So.” Matt finally starts in, taking the cup of coffee that’s been poured for him graciously in his hands, like it’s his lifeblood. “Spill about your plans for this motorcycle.” 

“Well,” Kenny starts, folding up the menu after having made a decision. “I need a hobby. So…” He spreads his hands wide. “Motorcycle.”

“Video games not doin’ it for you anymore?” Nick says and he leans over to take a sip from his straw instead of moving to bring the glass of water to him. The innuendo is obvious and Kenny hears Matt laugh under his breath.

“Ssshut up. And wasn’t it you that said I needed to get out of the house, Nicholas?” A roll of Kenny’s eyes.

“Oh we’re at Nicholas now.” Nick gives him a smirk that’s dangerously flirty and pointed at the ends. “What’s next, babe?” he smiles wide. 

“Don’t worry about Nick...just if you’re gonna do something like that, be safe. You know how people are around here.” 

“I know, I know. It’s not like I’m gonna just buy it and go on 95 right away…”

He was definitely planning on going on the freeway right away. Do you need a special license for these things? Why did he say that?

Matt and Nick are both staring at him for a bit too long after that. “Annnyway.” Nick rattles off. “Nothing from the mystery man next door since he saved your life. Like nothing? Not even a note?”

“Not _even_ a note. Not even a _whisper_ . Isn’t that weird? I mean, _I_ consider myself a reclusive loner, and even I go outside to take my trash to the dumpster sometimes.” Sometimes.

“You sure he’s not dead?” Nick asks and then whatever he was going to say next gets interrupted by the waitress bringing their food. It’s silent until they are alone again. 

“Or maybe you scared him off.” Matt reaches between Kenny and Nick to get the syrup for his waffle.

“It’s not my fault I had a freak seizure!” Kenny throws his hands up, almost knocking the syrup out of Matt’s hands. “Which, by the way, the doctor said he can find no reason why I had one, at. All.”

“Who the hell besides you said it was a seizure anyway. Maybe you just had like a blackout.” Nick tells him, incredulous as he yanks the syrup out of Matt’s hand before his brother can even use it. “It’s not like you eat enough. I can see that happening.” 

“The doctor said I’m the picture of health, so who the hell knows. Not you anyway. You’re the Super Jackson Bros, not the Doctors Jackson.” Kenny smiles at the frazzled waitress as she hands him his hashbrowns, because if there’s one thing he is, it’s polite. It’s the Canadian way, after all.

“For the record. I didn’t say anything was wrong with you.” Matt raises his hands as if to absolve himself from any blame. “But maybe Mr. Picture of Health should get some more sleep…” he trails off as his attention turns from Kenny to something else across the restaurant.

A scruffy-looking red-headed man in a leather jacket and hoodie, too warm for the humid weather in Miami, is buttering up the cashier at the register. Matt would recognize that gruff, husky voice… especially after an encounter that he and Nick just barely escaped a couple months ago. He shrugs down in the seat a little bit. “Hey, uh, Nick,” he says quietly. “Why don’t you… I don’t know, move to the other side of the booth. Just.” He flicks his hand toward it in a quick, nervous gesture. “Just move on over there. It’s getting a little stuffy with the current, ah, seating arrangement.”

“What the hell are you…” Nick starts, but he stops when he finally looks up and sees the same thing. He’s quick to move to the other side of the booth and pulls his hat down. “Yeah. Of course. It’s fine.”

“Thanks. Thanks, buddy. Really. Really appreciate it. Hey, did you get some butter? I know you want some extra butter on that bread, ha ha!” He gives a nervous laugh, shoving a handful of butter patties toward Nick before turning towards Kenny. “What about you Kenny, you need anything? Any ketchup? Any, uh, peppers?”

“No…” Kenny frowns. “Matt, are you... doing okay? Is everything alright?”

“He’s fine.” Nick tells him and it’s obvious that he’s not. “Just want to make sure you’ve got everything you need.” The man at the register rifles through a stack of bills before he pays the waitress behind the register, nods to her, and thankfully takes the second exit closest to him out of the restaurant. 

“He’s obviously not fine. Nobody just… _changes_ their seat in the middle of a meal, _AFTER_ the food is served, mind you, and then gets to say that they. are. Fine.” Kenny looks Nick dead in the eyes before turning to Matt and doing the same.

“Kenny it’s fine. Right, Matt? Probably just low blood sugar.” Nick grabs the syrup and pours it all over Matt’s waffle. “Just gotta get some sugar in him and it’s gonna be fine. Besides. We were gossiping about your cowboy, so don’t let us distract you.” With the danger past, Nick takes a strip of bacon off his plate, still on the other side of the table and takes a bite.

“He’s not my cowboy. The only thing he is is my neighbor, and he’s barely that.” Kenny digs into his hashbrowns. He loves these two men like his own brothers, but sometimes… they’re unbearable.

“So then change that.” Matt tells him and he’s finally not too fidgety for his own good anymore, happily digging into his waffle like the last 3 minutes never happened. “Go knock on his door. Try and get to know him more. Do _something_. It will be good for you.”

“I tried. I knocked, I slipped a note under the door... I don’t want to seem like a weirdo.” Kenny shrugs.

“Well I think he’s being the weirdo.” Nick is clearly trying to reassure him with an honest answer, which sometimes Kenny’s depression brain would try to convince him out of. But when their eyes meet for a moment, the sincerity there calms any momentary doubts. “I say, if he’s gonna get all twitchy after spending 20 minutes alone with you then fuck ‘em. In fact, maybe if I see him I’ll give him a piece of my mind.” 

“Well, I don’t know about that. I appreciate it, I really do, but it’s not like he owes me anything after I collapsed in front of him, other than what he did. Maybe he thinks _I’m_ embarrassed. And he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings.” This is all stuff that Kenny has thought through before, but it does help to talk it out.

“Look, man. We’ll back you up no matter what you wanna do, but no more depression meals and staying up until 4am.” Matt grabs his shoulders and it’s a comforting weight, if for only a moment.

“Would you… come with me to help me buy a motorcycle?” He gives Matt a hopeful grin, with his best attempt at puppy eyes.

“God, you know he can’t help it when you look at him like that.” Nick laughs under his breath, it’s so fond that it makes his chest warm. 

“Fine, fine. Yes. We’ll go. Eat your damn breakfast and we’ll go.” 

\--

_“Hey. Hey Orange.” Chuck Taylor nudges his friend, as he peers into the view port of the Magic 8-Ball in his hands. “Orange, what are you seeing, buddy?”_

_“Says ‘Outcome Unclear,’” Orange Cassidy replies in his usual flat tone. “‘Try again.’”_

_“Whattt? No way, let me see that--” Chuck makes a grab for it, but Orange manages to keep it just out of his hands as he shakes it._

_“You know that we aren’t supposed to act on anything even if we figure it out, right? This thing sucks anyway.” Trent sighs and puts his hands on Chuck’s shoulders._

_“I just wanted to see…” Chuck sighs, and finally Orange relents, turning away from Chuck as he brings their arms down, letting the ball roll into the other man’s hand. “Oh, thanks O.C. Maybe… hmm, lemme try something...” He shakes it and brings the little window up to his face, seeing first a murky purple liquid, and then a tiny image of three men at some kind of car dealership. “Guys, guys!!” he says excitedly. “I can see something, I can see! Haha, it works!”_

\--

“Wait, so did I hear that guy right?” Kenny asks in hushed tones from his position on the couch. “Did that guy tell me he has to check if I have a special license on file?”

“You can’t think they were just gonna let you… walk out of here with a brand new motorcycle without running some sort of check on you, right?” Matt pats Kenny’s thigh. “It will be fine.”

Nick turns around, and sees the salesperson coming back with a bit of a sour look on his face. “Uh oh…”

“Mr. Omega?” He shuffles some of the papers in his hands. “I have some good news and some bad news.” His lips tighten into a thin line. “We ran your credit and you are approved for the bike you want but… you’re going to need to take an online class before you can pick it up and drive it out of here. You need a motorcycle license.” 

“A what? Excuse me?” Kenny furrows his brow at the man. “I have a driver’s license, you still have it, actually.”

“No. A motorcycle license. It’s different from what you have. You do know that you have to take a course before you can drive one, right?”

“Uh, let me talk to my associates for a moment, will you?” Kenny pulls Matt and Nick away from the salesperson to the water cooler on the opposite side of the show floor.

“Your _associates_?” Matt and Nick both ask at the same time when they are out of earshot. “What is this, the mob?”

“Sorry, he’s a businessman. With an attitude like that, I doubt he’d understand the meaning of the word _friend_.” Kenny shakes his head as he pulls them into a huddle. “So, what do you guys think of all this.”

“What do we _think_? Kenny it’s the law.” Matt shakes his head. “You can’t just bypass that because you want it. Nick and I are gonna have to split soon, but just finalize the paperwork, we’ll help you get your license and then you can have your bike. Done and done.”

Of course it was foolish of him to think that getting serotonin was going to be _easy_. “Fine. Yeah, you’re right, Matt. You’re right. Of course.” He waves his hand over the huddle at the salesperson, before walking back over. “Okay, sorry, I’m Canadian… that just threw me for a bit of a loop. In Canada, we drive snowmobiles before we can walk, haha, you know. Anyways… so yeah, I’ll go ahead and do the paperwork today, and then get on the license thing ASAP. How’s that sound?”

“Perfect. If you’ll just follow me we’ll get the financing out of the way and then it’s yours to own.”

Kenny quickly turns around to give the brothers a thumbs-up and a nod. It isn’t long before they’re on their way back to Kenny’s red Silverado, paperwork in hand.

\--

It’s raining. 

That’s normal for South Florida, but something about this rain makes Adam’s bones ache. Whiskey helps, though. 

He pours himself a double before he settles on the couch and just shuts his eyes. He can just listen to the rain like this. Ache or not, Adam still tries to find pleasure in the simple things in life.

It’s unfortunate timing that he gets one of the most intense, full-body death signs he’s had in a long time right as he takes the first sip.

They ironically feel like an adrenaline shot to the heart. A life ending shouldn’t feel so electric, but it does. If Adam had to pinpoint just one thing he hated about all of this, it would be that. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stands on shaky legs as he waits for all the other sensations to cascade through him. A car accident… gruesome and unfortunate.

The sign should’ve prepared him, really, but the scene itself is somehow even worse than he could’ve imagined. The destructive scene, the fallen overpass sign smashed down into the car, shifts suddenly and then there is so much fire. The flattened remains of a red truck go up in flames and then they burn _blue_ . So hot they could be from hell itself. Adam sees a bloody hand smooth down perfect leather and then he gets a name. _Kenny Omega._ Suddenly... a lot of things seem to make sense.

Then, after a second, out of the wreckage crawl two light purple, clawed hands. The sight pulls Adam out of his reverie. He’d scrub at his eyes, but he knows that won’t help anything, even trying to shut them doesn’t stop the visions, it’s rooted in something visceral. The scene is like a horror movie he can’t stop watching. He can’t even flinch or turn away. 

“Ugh… what the fuck, man. I thought the whole point… of motorcycle bureaucracy was to keep people safe… that was what that letter Hell sent us said anyways…” A weak cough. 

“How do we know it was even Hell that sent it?” Another voice replies as another set of hands claws its way through a half-shattered window. “I don’t think that whole thing is really real, I mean, look at us. We just got like this after we got really into Instagram…”

Okay... two survivors. But they aren’t human... Adam hasn’t seen any other supernatural beings around here that aren’t vampires, but he knew about them even before Death managed to plunge its fingers into his chest.

“Hey, wait, where’s Kenny? We're demons, Matt, we can survive probably but Kenny--”

“Fuck! Kenny?? Kenny!!!” The one demon, Matt he guesses, starts tearing out of the car, supernatural strength enough to pry the hinges off the rear door and scramble to the driver’s side… which is completely covered by the large steel I-beams that fell into it.

“Matt!” Adam almost flinches when he hears the other demon shout, he’s grabbing his arm an instant later. “Don’t.” It sounds like the demon is choking back too much emotion now that he’s realized what’s happened. “Don’t open that. He’s... no one could have survived that.”

“How--Nick... no. I just... I thought he would be safe... I was always so proud of him.” Matt sinks to the ground at Nick’s knees.

“It’s…” Nick takes a shaky breath. “Death!” He shouts seemingly into nothing. Adam hears it loud and clear. “Get your ass here right now and fix this. We’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Yeah, we’re demons. Deals are... kind of our thing. Please, just save our friend.” The one called Matt crawls closer to him even if he’s not really there. “Please.”

Adam feels himself finally shimmer into the scene properly, no longer held back by whatever stops him from acting before… well before someone dies. He’s finally face to face with the pair of demons who seem to be begging him for something he can’t give. 

“Look. I’ll let you say goodbye before I take him, but I can’t change this. I’ve tried before.”

“But--”

“Matt.” The other one pulls him back gently. “Matt. Hey, Matt. Even if this asshole can’t fix this, we’re gonna make this right, okay? We always do. Always.” 

“It’s just my job… I don’t wanna do it anymore than you want me to.” Adam anxiously runs a hand through his hair. Something does seem off though...the spirit should have manifested outside of the body by now and if he _wasn’t_ dead then he shouldn’t have been summoned here. He looks cautiously at both demons before he shuffles forward and puts his hand on the crumpled car door. Then he feels it again. That same electric shock that ripped through him a week ago. 

Then he knows at least one thing: he needs to lay his hands on the body.

“You’re not gonna wanna see this.” Adam says, voice thick with dread. He doesn’t want to see it either, but _he_ doesn’t have a choice. His hands slip easily through the metal as if he were a ghost, peeling away the beam and the car door and then… Jesus Christ. It’s always hard to see someone you’ve met dead, but Adam didn’t expect this.

What’s there in the driver’s side… is blue flame and ash. When Adam reaches out to touch it though, something incredible happens. The blue flame wraps itself into a form and sweeps the ashes out, wrapping around Adam before forming out into the form of a man made of blue flame right in front of all of them. 

“What the fuck…” he can’t help but say anything other than that. That was the flame… the intensely hot flame from the death sign before it showed him this. Adam can’t do anything but stare. The demons back away, grabbing onto one another. 

The flame… screams, before forming more clearly into the shape of a man… a familiar man.

“What…” one of the demons gasps, before ash uncurls and stretches, cloaking the blue and purple flame with ash that turns to skin.

They all watch in awe, unable to do anything else. Adam’s never seen anything like it before and he has _seen_ some things. By the looks of it, the demons haven’t seen anything like it either. He feels a fire light in his chest as he watches the ash dance and transform. His neighbor. He should have known something was going on… it’s half the reason he kept his distance.

Hair and limbs and nose form finally, until the only hint of that blue flame is in the man’s wide-open eyes. He takes a single, heaving breath, before he collapses right at Adam’s feet.


	2. Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend walks back into Matt and Nick's life, a spark catches fire, and a grisly murder leads to more than even Death can handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please like, subscribe, view, comment, and give kudos please. Tags have been updated and cleaned up a bit for your reading convenience. Enjoy!

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 2:** **Vengeance**

Adam’s hand is shaking a little as he holds his phone, his second loop around the small palm trees outside of his condo being no more productive than the last. What was _he_ supposed to do? How is _he_ supposed to know what manifested inside of that horrifically mangled car? He’s got no more idea than anyone else and yet he’s got two _demons_ breathing down is fuckin’ neck about it. He’s never even met a demon before. He just _knew_ what they were when he saw them. 

“Come on Cody… pick up the damn phone.” He presses it closer to his ear like it’s going to somehow help. 

It’s still raining. 

Finally it clicks over after what feels like a century. “Hello?” Cody’s voice is confused, but there. Normal. Solid. It soothes him even when his nerves are frazzled, but he doesn’t explore those feelings any further than he has to at the moment.

“Cody. God… thank God. Listen. I uh… something happened. Can you come over? I hate to do this kinda shit in the middle of the day, but I am kind of freaking out and I don’t know what to do.” It comes out in a rush that his brain is trying to immediately detangle. He already wants to apologize for being this way. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Adam! Slow down! I can barely understand you… something happened to you? Are you… okay?” Cody’s voice is smooth and steady like always. 

“I’m fine.” He’s quick to say, even though the fiery feeling in his chest from an hour ago still hasn’t gone away. “I mean… I guess I’m okay. I tried to reap a soul and uh…” He finds himself fidgeting with the loose change in his shorts pocket. A penny and a quarter, he’s memorized the feel of them. “It became something else. Like full on something else. There was blue fire and ash and there are two demons here now too.” It’s a mess. 

“Reaping a soul… summoned blue fire and two demons?”

“No.” Adam shakes his head even though no one can see him. “I went to reap a soul and the two demons were already there. The person who died just… funckin’ didn’t die. I don’t know. I can’t explain it. I thought maybe you or Brandi could figure it out.” He takes a second to look back over his shoulder to the window of his condo. One of the demons (Matt he thinks) is staring at him. It’s unsettling. 

“I mean, I can ask Brandi but… I think this might be a new one for me, dude.” Cody gives a sigh. “Sorry I don’t have anything for you.”

“What do I do?” Adam doesn’t want to ask so bluntly, but he blurts it out, he has no idea what else to say. “I was supposed to reap his soul and then… this.”

“Have you tried… talking to him?”

Adam pauses, before he finally replies, “No.”

He gets a well-earned sigh from his friend. He can just see Cody pinching his forehead. “Maybe try... talking to him. He’s probably scared, and you don’t know what kind of ideas those demons are putting into his head. You said you’ve got some kind of connection, right? So _use it_.”

“Can uh. Can you come over if it doesn’t go so well?” He knows he sounds like a kid asking a parent for help, but in a lot of ways, Cody is all he’s got.

“Yeah, of course, dude. But I think you’ve got this all on your own. But I’ll always back you up if you need it.”

Adam takes a breath, holds it, and then exhales. “Alright. I’m going in.” He hangs up and slips the phone into his back pocket and tries to shake the nervous energy from his body. Alright. No more avoiding it. He glances back at the window before he makes his way inside.

“Hey, look who decided to come back, Death the Cowboy,” the demon with the headband says in a deadpan. He’s standing and hovering next to Kenny, who’s on the couch looking... more or less human. If Adam hadn’t seen him as ashes an hour ago, he wouldn’t have known he’d just died.

Adam tries to ignore the demon, pushing down the spark of anger that tries to stir inside him. “I just needed to try and figure out if anyone knew anything about…” he gestures to Kenny. “This.” He shuffles a little closer to the couch. “They don’t. So we’re on our own.”

“I mean, I don’t know what you’re all so worried about, honestly.” Kenny sighs as the demons fret. “I feel _fine_. Maybe someone just granted your wish to bring me back. Does that happen?” He looks at Adam.

It’s not that easy. It’s never that easy. 

“It doesn’t work like that.” His words are gentle as he takes a seat on the couch. The demons both glare daggers at him. “If you get something, you have to give something. I don’t have that power and I don’t think your friends do either. Do you remember _anything?_ Did you see anybody? Anything?”

“Just… blue fire. And… screaming.”

_Awesome._

“Did you…” One of the demons (Matt again?) starts in. “Ya know… feel yourself die?” What an awful question. 

“I… maybe?” Kenny furrows his very blond eyebrows. “It’s hard to remember.”

Adam feels a bit of frustration seep into him. He doesn’t know any of these people. Not at all. And the fact that at least two are demons… that throws him off completely. “What about you two?” He finally turns his attention to them. “You survived, but that’s because you’re _demons_.” He enunciates it harshly. “You sure you didn’t pass along an infection?”

“What, just because we’re _demons_ means we’re evil? What about you—you gave Kenny some kind of vision, what if you infected him with a… a death aura?” The bearded brother is incredulous, gesticulating at Adam, so Adam crosses his arms over his chest, trying to look intimidating. “I can’t believe this!”

“Do you even know what you’re saying right now? I don’t know your names yet and you're accusing me of infecting him with something? Come on.” He leans back, arms still crossed.

“Well, if you ever bothered getting to know your neighbors, maybe you’d get to know his friends too.”

“Matt… enough, okay?” Kenny puts a hand up in front of Matt, holding him back. “Okay, just… I’m gonna be okay. So can you guys please leave Adam and I alone for a bit to figure this out?”

Adam clenches his jaw as he holds back what he really wants to say and feels a bit of the tension leak out of his body when Matt relents due to Kenny’s insistence. 

The demon looks angry for a moment before the other takes his arm and leads him out of the room. “We’re right out here if you need anything,” he calls a second later and Adam sees Kenny nod. Then there is nothing left but the tension between them. 

“Did you know they were demons?” He had to ask. 

“No. I had… no idea.” Kenny sighs. “They were just my only friends.”

“I’m not sayin’ nothing about it.” Adam tries to clarify even though he feels exhausted and like he needs a damn drink. “They seem like they care about you, they’re just assholes about it.”

“They’re not assholes, just... Anyway. So. You’re Death, huh.” Kenny laughs tiredly, sadly. “Guess that explains why you were never around. Why you avoided my, ah, _mortal friendliness_.”

Adam resists the urge to fidget with a loose thread on the arm of Kenny’s couch since he can’t reach the change in his pocket at the moment. “Didn’t have anything to do with you. The less I have to explain to people, the better. I thought after we had that _encounter_ or whatever the hell that maybe you were like me,” he looks like the direction of the two demons who are eavesdropping. “Like us. You insisted you didn’t feel anything so I left it alone. I was trying to do you a favor.”

“Oh.” Kenny looks into the glass of chocolate milk he’d picked up off the table at some point and stares down into it. “So it... was just. Like that.”

“What? It’s not like I avoid nice, handsome strangers for my own benefit.” Adam laughs, self-deprecating and soft, too caught in his own mind to really register what he just said. The realization hits a second after.

“Oh.” A pause, and Kenny raises a blond eyebrow as a smirk slides onto his face. He looks up and leans towards Adam a little. “You think I’m _handsome_ , huh?” 

The sudden shift in tone startles him and Adam shivers when he sees the points of the smirk on Kenny’s face. He backs up just a fraction. “I have eyes, don’t I?” He tries to keep his tough guy facade up in the face of everything. “I keep myself isolated for a reason. If no one is around, no one can get hurt. But I guess I fuckin’ cursed you or whatever the hell so it doesn’t even matter anymore.”

“Of course you have eyes… so, do you like what you see? After all… it sounds like, _intentional_ or not... you remade me.”

_Remade._

That word terrifies Adam for some reason and it makes another chill move down his spine as he looks at Kenny and properly _sees_ him for maybe the first time. That shark-like smirk is still playing on the other man’s lips, pink and soft—he hadn’t really noticed them before. His gaze drifts down slightly. Without a shirt on he can see what was hiding before; smooth expanses of muscles under lightly tanned skin, perfect abs that make Adam’s own beer belly tie in knots. And… that jawline. Being torn apart and reconstituted clearly didn’t affect anything. “I… didn't hesitate when I said you were handsome, did I?”

“No, but I don’t think you _meant_ to admit it, either. So there...” Kenny moves closer, getting face to face with Adam. “Heh. You’re not too bad yourself... _cowboy_ . So as a self. professed. _loner_ … I wonder. Have you ever been kissed?”

Adam wants to ask him what kind of question that is. What exactly he thinks he’s doing saying things like that when his friends are in earshot. Kenny has died and come back and they have only spent an hour or so together. He wants to ask all these things, but he doesn’t. “I don’t…” he’s looking at Kenny’s handsome face again and he’s frozen.

“You don’t know? Or… is that a no?” Kenny’s hand suddenly slides up Adam’s cheek.

When Kenny’s fingers touch his skin, it’s a kind of spark he can’t even describe. He’s speechless for a second and then words he doesn’t even register move past his lips. “Kiss me.”

Kenny leans in, and suddenly everything clicks with a sense of rightness; he couldn’t—wouldn’t want to—pull away. Destiny, fate, whatever you want to call it… it definitely feels like his is in Kenny’s arms, against Kenny’s lips. It’s easy to fall deep into it. It’s been so long since Adam’s been with anyone. And this… this just feels right. His hands move to Kenny’s waist without thinking, his skin is warm and something shifts inside of him. He moans softly against Kenny’s lips. He knows what this is. What Kenny is. They are two halves of a whole even if he doesn't have the words to explain.

Kenny moans in return, before pressing Adam further back into the couch—

—Adam feels Kenny hesitate as he hears the brothers come back. “Okay, okay, it’s been long enough and you aren’t answering your texts. If you’ve managed to murder Kenny, I swear I’m gonna kill you and your cowboy boots…”

“I—no, we were just talking.” Adam blinks before he shakes his head, whatever spell that came over him fading away. “Kenny’s fine.” He feels like he knows that now and even if it freaks him out… he’s not dealing with this by himself. Not anymore. “I figured it out.”

“Oh yeah, then what’s up with you?” Nick comes running over, waving his hand in Kenny’s face. “How many fingers am I holding up? Your eyes are all… big.”

“Dilated.” Matt corrects.

Kenny shoves Matt’s hands out of his face. “I’m _fine_. I just… work with Death now. Okay? I’m fine. Mostly normal, just… gotta figure stuff out. You wanted me to be saved from the wreck or something, right? So here I am.”

“Kenny…” Matt looks taken aback for a moment and then Adam sees concern shift into anger. He knows someone with a temper when he sees one. He can relate. “Nick.” The demon balls his hands into fists at his side. “Let’s go home.” 

_Nick._ Adam commits that name to memory, and watches as the taller brother looks confused for a moment as Matt walks past him and toward the front door. He shakes his head. “Just… call us if you need something.” He sighs and rolls his eyes before he follows his brother out. 

Adam just stares. “Uh.”

“Hold on, wait, Matt, I didn’t mean it like—Matt!” Kenny unfreezes finally and runs after them as far as the door, but they’re already gone. “Wait, could they always just… teleport?”

“I don’t know. I know vampires can’t, but that’s all the supernatural info I got.” Adam isn’t sure how to take what happened. Part of him feels bad, but another part is happy that they are alone. It’s a weird feeling.

“Sorry, I just—I. I didn’t mean to be mean. I just… I mean, I died, right? I did die?” Kenny turns to Adam, giving a defeated, almost manic-sounding laugh, and it’s like all the bluster and charisma from moments ago has evaporated.

Adam pats the couch. “Sit down. We’ll… figure it out.” He’s not sure how, but at least he has a an idea of what Kenny is. Kenny must have felt it lock into place too… a moment of realization as they kissed.

\--

“There’s no after-school special for this, huh. No ‘So you died and became the manifestation of… of a chaos entity?’ video like they showed in Year 4 of primary school?” Kenny rubs the hand that Adam isn’t holding over his face tiredly. “Fuck.”

“Probably got about as much info about it as I got.” Adam leans his head back. “Which is about zero fuckin’ percent. If anyone thinks I know what I’m doing they are gonna be sorely disappointed. I drink to cope. Sorry that’s not an option for you.” 

“I mean, I guess if I live forever, I don’t have to worry about… hurting myself now? I mean, does alcohol… help?” Kenny looks at him closely. More closely than Adam is comfortable with, honestly.

“Not really.” Adam tells him, and that’s the god's honest truth. “Kind of a habit now more than anything, though I do like a good bourbon.” Kenny is still staring at him and his hand hasn’t moved from Adam’s, fingers locked together like they have known each other for years. “You shouldn’t be coping like me, anyway. Maybe whatever this is will make it easier on the both of us.”

“Coping doesn’t sound like living. Or… well, you know. Maybe you needed someone. Kinda sounds like it.” Kenny puts his other hand over Adam’s. “You know. My hands used to be smaller. I was always… self conscious about it. But now they’re the size I always wanted them to be.” He flexes it self-consciously, opening and closing it around Adam’s hand.

Adam watches Kenny’s hands flex, not quite knowing what to say in response to that, so he goes back to Kenny’s earlier thought. “Coping isn’t living. You’re right. I’ve been doin’ that for a while now.” He moves back and meets Kenny’s eyes. “I died too ya know. Before I became this.” 

“Well. Maybe it’s time to start over. For both of us.” He brings a hand up to Adam’s hair, looking hesitant. “Can I?”

Adam takes a deep breath and nods. So long since someone touched him. So long since someone has understood. This was a curse, it was supposed to be a burden. Maybe… just maybe, he can give Death the _real_ Death the middle fingers just this once. 

Kenny cards his fingers gently through Adam’s hair, seemingly testing for Adam’s reaction. “It feels as nice as it looks.” Kenny smiles, and it’s so soft and warm. Surprisingly so. 

It makes his chest ache rather unexpectedly. He laughs under his breath. “Nice to finally know someone who can understand how damn hard it is to maintain curls like this.” It’s a joke and he smiles, actually smiles in what feels like a damn year. “I like the side shave.” He nods toward Kenny. 

“Oh,” Kenny says, and actually blushes. “Thanks, I, uh, did it last week.” A pause. “I thought it would be easier with a motorcycle helmet.”

“No offense, but I don’t think you’ll need a helmet to drive a motorcycle now.”

“Yeah, well. I’ll just be comfortable _and_ extremely attractive on a motorcycle now.” Kenny is so close to Adam’s face, and his voice is so quiet. He feels that magnetism again, but this time it doesn’t feel like it's rooted deep down in his soul. 

Kenny’s so soft like this. Different from even 20 minutes ago. “You said it, not me.” He’s smiling again, it's infectious.

“Yeah. Maybe that’s my way of saying I agree with you.” He leans in again, but softer this time. Easier. Less burning, more yearning. 

“I’d hope so.” Adam is pulled in again, but it’s so soft when their lips meet. He feels his hands shake for a moment before he places them on Kenny’s thighs, feeling the warmth as it radiates through his body. 

“Mmm…” Kenny groans into the kiss, shifting slightly on the couch like he’s trying to give Adam a better angle.

Adam stays like that for a moment, shifting his hands to Kenny’s strong shoulders before breathing deep and pulling back. “I don’t usually do this…”

“Usually, or never? You never did answer my question…”

“Been a long time.” Despite the magnetism he feels, Adam doesn’t say much after that. He hasn’t known Kenny very long and he’s still trying to work all this out in his head on top of being in a new city with one friend to spare. “You should get some rest. Dying takes a lot out of someone.”

“Yeah. You, uh, got something other than a couch?” Kenny looks around.

“Just take my bed. I’ll be fine out here. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept on the couch over the last couple of nights.” Adam suddenly feels tired. Drained in ways he wasn’t sure he was capable of feeling still. He leans back on the couch and shuts his eyes. “Promise.” 

“Oh, no, I can’t… I mean, my place is just across the street... you deserve a bed. It’s been a long, uh, time for both of us.” Kenny gets up to head to Adam’s door.

“Your body got reconstituted after you were in a car accident. I’m not making you walk across the damn hall and you’re certainly not spending the night alone.” Adam takes a breath, deep and calming. “Take the bed and I’ll figure it out.” 

“Wait, how big’s your bed anyways?” Kenny leans against the entryway wall. 

Adam rubs his hands over his face, brain short circuiting for a moment before he actually answers. “It came with the place? Queen sized, I guess?” He doesn’t spend a whole lot of time sleeping, even when he’s bone tired, like right now. 

“We could both sleep there… you could keep an eye on me in case I get some new weird power we can’t predict…” Kenny starts walking back, obviously pleased with the plan he’s hatching.

“So you’re asking me to sleep with you?” Adam’s only known Kenny for about 6 hours, but he can see the clear satisfaction on his face. “Metaphorically speaking?”

“I _mean_ … _You_ said it, not me,” Kenny looks up at him through unfairly-long lashes. He knows _exactly_ what he’s doing.

Adam feels flustered, but he’s trying not to show it. He’s really unsure how this man went from concerned to… _this_ so suddenly. The longer he looks at him the longer he feels like something inside of Kenny might eat him alive. “Well…”

Kenny just keeps walking, past Adam and into the hallway, before pointing. “Bedroom’s this way?”

“Bedroom is that way.” Adam repeats and he suddenly feels a flush on his cheeks like he’s been drinking for hours. He hasn’t had a drop today. Kenny has oscillated from being scared to _this_ in record time and he wonders if the other man has noticed the shift.

“Right. Follow me… if you dare…” And Kenny turns the corner. 

It’s a bad idea. But, it’s a good day for bad ideas. 

—

“Can you _believe_ that? We bend over backwards to make sure Kenny’s okay and then what? He just decides he doesn’t need us anymore?” Matt can feel the anger stick in his chest like a knife as he and Nick walk up the steps to their apartment. He hates feeling like this, hates wanting to break things, but he’s got no outlet for it. All he can do is scream and complain. So he does.

“He did almost die, but nobody deserves to be treated like that. Nobody, man.” Nick heaves a sigh, and claps Matt on the back as they reach their floor. “Like he’s taking it out on us.”

“It’s not our fault we couldn’t tell him about us. What were we supposed to do?” Matt asks and he’s not sure he even wants an answer, but Nick has always been the voice of reason. “It’s not like we asked for this and I was sure that eventually… he’d be like us.” 

“Yeah, I mean… we tried to take care of him. Guess it’s hard to get someone with depression to become a, I dunno, a pride demon?” Nick shrugs before moving past Matt and the front door and sliding onto the couch. 

“I just… wanted him to be okay,” Matt reiterates before he falls on the couch next to his brother, mood stabilizing a bit now that they are away from the scene of the crime, so to speak. “I wanted to be honest with him, but it’s not like he would have gotten it.” If they could have just gotten Kenny to indulge in something, _anything,_ maybe the secrets wouldn’t have been needed. That ship has already sailed though. “He’s absolutely not human now. Whatever happened back there.” 

“Yeah. I mean working for Death? What the hell’s that all about, anyway?” Nick furrows his brows angrily and lets out a sigh as he leans forward to put his head in his hands.

“We’ll figure it out. Once he cools off I’m not letting him out of my sight. I don’t have a good feeling about this.” He usually doesn’t push his weight around too much, but Kenny is a sore point for some reason. He and Nick didn’t ask to be this way and he’s furious that someone with just as much supernatural baggage as them, if not more, would have the gall to make some sort of judgment call on their character and drive a wedge between them and Kenny. All he ever had was good intentions…

He hears Nick’s phone buzz in his pocket.

“Hold on I’m getting a call, maybe it’s from Kenny—hello? Wait—Adam Cole?”

Matt’s expression changes instantly. “What? Gimme that.” He snatches Nick’s phone away from him. “Adam?” It’s been months. Matt can’t even remember how long exactly. 

“Matt? Is that you? Damn it’s been so long—how are you boys doing?” Matt forgot how smooth Adam’s voice was. He can practically see the self assured smirk on the other side.

“Ugh, fine—”

“We feel like _shit_ , man,” Nick interrupts Matt.

Matt turns the speaker phone on even though Adam’s voice is usually loud enough for the both of them to hear without it. “Yeah, it’s not great.” 

“What’s wrong? You two usually aren’t the sour type. That Hunter isn’t still on your trail, is he?”

Matt furrows his brows. “No, no, nothing like that… it’s… it’s Kenny.”

“Yeah, he’s got a weird neighbor—”

“That’s an understatement,” Matt finishes.

Matt hears Adam laugh under his breath. Adam met Kenny once and only once. It didn’t go so well. “Sounds like you two need a Kenny Omega break. You know, you could always come over or I could come over there. I haven’t had quality time with my two favorite brothers in too long.”

“Isn’t your place kinda… small?”

“What Nick _means_ to say is… you should totally come over here, dude.” Matt smiles into the phone, even though realistically Adam can’t see it, and continues in sing-song, “We bought a case of Monster yesterday…”

“Still know exactly how to win me over.” Adam’s smile can be heard over the phone. “I’ll be there in ten.”

Matt hangs up and looks over at Nick, who sighs in relief. “Thank. Fuck.”

“So we’re absolutely going to ask him why he fell off the face of the earth for months and just decided to call us now, right?” Nick nearly melts on the couch, leaning back and letting his glamour fade away.

“I mean, we probably should Nick, I don’t know, you’re better at stuff like that than me.”

“And how much should we even really tell him about Kenny? You know Adam, he’ll look for any excuse to meddle with things.”

Matt isn’t sure why Nick is asking him all of these things, his brother is just as bone tired as he is. Matt’s glamour fades away as he sits there on the couch and tries to process everything. Adam Cole, their oldest friend, has been cagey at best over the last 6 months, finding himself a new girlfriend and a new life in record time as soon as he arrived in Miami. Matt can’t say he’s surprised—even Matt, hell anyone with eyes, can tell that Adam is attractive. But good things come at a price in the presence of a hellmouth… and he’s gotten the feeling Adam hasn’t exactly been straightforward with them.

As soon as he has a chance to really think, there’s a knock at the door. Nick takes one look over at Matt, and he makes a pleading expression at his younger brother. “Oh, fine, I’ll get it.” Matt mouths _thank you_ before Nick turns around to get up and get the door.

Something hits him as soon as Nick gets up. That wasn’t 10 minutes, it was more like 3 and Matt feels like he’s going insane, but his mind won’t stop focusing on all the little irregularities with Adam. If he wasn’t so tired, both mentally and physically, he’d be blunt about it. He hears the door creak open and on the other side stands Adam Cole in all his glory. One look at him makes Matt swallow hard. Like he’d somehow forgotten exactly what drew them to Adam in the first place. 

The man is a fountain of charisma and self-importance, but you can’t even hate him for it. Especially not when he’s _so_ funny, so _energetic_ , and just makes you feel good about being around him. Matt always thought saying people had “magnetic” personalities was bullshit, until he met… “Adam. Hey.” Matt gives a tired wave.

“There you are. God it’s been way too long.” Matt hears Adam’s words, but it’s his tone that washes over him like some sort of calming water as he watches him hug Nick like they’ve never had a second apart.

“Hey, uh, Adam,” Matt starts, and then Adam turns to him with a smile. What was he going to say again? He blinks, just looking at Adam’s pure pleasure at seeing him again, and he can’t help but smile himself. Wasn’t he going to press Adam on something? “Hey, man. We really missed you.” He shakes his head, before heading over to hug Adam on the opposite side from Nick, and then they both envelope the smaller man.

Matt suddenly feels like he could just stay like that forever, wrapped up in the presence of a man that he knows like the back of his hand, but feels like he doesn’t really know at all at the same time. Something is different, but he doesn’t care enough to press it even if he had meant to moments ago. Adam doesn’t let either of them go completely when he pulls back just slightly. “You both look good. Tired, but good. Staying out of too much trouble I hope. Not that I’m one to talk.” He smirks.

“Well, actually…” Should he tell Adam about the car crash? Nick looks up at him expectantly. He is a pride demon… but he’s not proud that his friend died. Or lived. Just confused, mostly. Normally he wouldn’t shut up about the things that have happened to him, what kind of numbers he and Nick were pulling on Instagram. But Adam never liked Kenny anyway… Matt looks up at Adam and just feels calm again. His ever-present anxiety melting away.

“Yeah?” That trademark smirk hasn’t left Adam’s lips, like he knows what Matt was going to say, but just hasn’t coaxed it out of him yet. “You know what... You guys look beat, even if getting tired isn’t really a thing you really _feel_ anymore.” He directs them both to the couch and Matt distinctly feels Adam’s hand on the small of his back.

“I mean, yeah, it’s been a pretty tiring last couple days,” Matt agrees, trying to forcibly relax his shoulders.

“Kenny drama, all that shit,” Nick adds, taking the words right out of his mouth as always.

“Kenny drama?” Adam sounds fake-surprised, like he was just waiting for one of them to say something. Matt can’t bring himself to care. “You know you guys don’t have an obligation to take care of him, right?” 

“I mean… we were kind of hoping our influence could… make something out of him.” Nick shrugs. “But it hasn’t seemed to do much more than keep him alive.”

“God don’t say it like that, Nick. It sounds like he was just a thing.” Matt might be frustrated right now, but Nick knows as well as he does that Kenny is a good friend now. Even if he’s just… difficult sometimes. “Don’t make that stupid cowboy right about us.” 

“A cowboy? What the hell have you two been up to exactly?”

“Man, I didn’t mean it like that! I just… I just wanted him to be okay. So we don’t have to worry about him.” Nick sighs and leans back against Adam. “I just wanted him to know things were gonna be okay for once. Fuck the cowboy, man.”

Matt sees Adam’s hand move to rest on Nick’s thigh. He narrows his eyes just a little. 

Adam smiles that smile of his and Matt can’t remember the next words he was going to say. 

“Now you _have_ to tell me everything.” 

\--

There is dust on the ceiling fan in Adam’s room.

He’s never noticed it before, he’s not sure why he would have; he spends so many of his nights sleeping on the couch. But he sees it now. It’s the least interesting thing in the room, or maybe the most interesting? He’s not sure. All he DOES know is that he’s absolutely not looking at the man who’s sleeping a foot or so away from him, curled up like he hasn’t slept in years. That path only leads to ruin… or whatever that line is from a movie he vaguely remembers watching at 3 am a week ago.

The man who’s curled up under the blankets with a face of peace like an angel, who looks so much softer than the anxious yet flirtatious man he had to deal with only an hour ago.

What was that all about anyway? Adam’s died before, and he knows how much it shakes you up… Kenny just seems fine. Aside from the wild shifts in his mood. Maybe that’s normal though. It’s not like he knows the man well enough to tell. Except… he kissed Kenny. Why did he kiss Kenny? He doesn’t do things like that. Not drunk or otherwise. Adam almost feels like he was guided into it, the weird magnetism between them pushing him to something he normally wouldn’t go for. At least not at just a second meeting. God… why is his brain so messed up. Everything feels slightly upside down, and there’s this pulse to touch the other man, like there will be answers of some kind found in the skin to skin contact. It’s nothing he needs on top of everything else.

Kenny groans softly but doesn’t wake, instead turning over in his sleep and reaching an arm out so he’s curling towards Adam now, seeking his warmth.

“ _Jesus Christ.”_ Adam whispers under his breath. He’s in loose shorts with no shirt and even if the air conditioning is on full blast he can just _feel_ Kenny reaching out beside him, warmth calling to him even if the last thing he wants right now is to be any warmer.

Kenny’s hand keeps grabbing towards him for a second before it doesn’t find anything, and then sadly and slowly curls up. Kenny sighs in his sleep and wiggles into a more comfortable position.

He can’t just… what does it say about him if he just lets go? He’s always been so good about moving forward. Adam turns to look at Kenny, pulling up the light blanket so it’s covering him a little better. “I hope you know this is really fucked up.” He mutters before flopping back against the pillows.

Kenny’s blue eyes blink open at him. “Did you ask me something…?” he drawls out.

“Uh. No. Go back to sleep.”

“Can’t. Too cold,” Kenny says as he curls up uncomfortably, with a confused and almost pathetic cant to his sleepy voice. 

“How the hell are you cold. It’s like 80 degrees outside.” Adam shakes his head and props himself up on one arm. “Do you need another blanket?”

Kenny shivers. “No, it’s… it’s like something under my skin… like a fever. Ugh…”

Oh fuck. “Do you need me to get you something? Water? I think I have some painkillers somewhere—I think that might help.” Adam sits up in bed at that, something sticking in the pit of his stomach now that Kenny’s said something. “Tell me what might help?” He’s never been good at this, he’s still not, but Adam feels just as responsible now as he did the night Kenny collapsed on the sidewalk outside. 

“Feel my forehead? I don’t know, maybe I…”

Adam puts his hand on Kenny’s forehead without another thought, concern pushing him forward, and then… he feels a calm settle into his chest. The back of his hand stays on Kenny’s forehead for only a moment before he gives into impulse. Adam lets his fingers drop and trail down Kenny’s cheek as he’s swallowed up by the other man’s ocean-blue eyes again.

Kenny’s mouth opens and his head tilts back ever so slightly as he whispers, “I feel… a lot better now… your hands are warm.”

“Yeah?” Adam swallows hard. He feels stuck, but suddenly it doesn’t feel bad. “Probably shoulda… taken you to the doctors or somethin’.” He’s got no idea why the words slip out of his mouth, but they do.

“I mean… I feel tired... n’ so alive at the same time. Is that something a hospital can fix?” Kenny reaches out to curl his hand around Adam’s wrist, holding him loosely in place, and his lips part.

Adam can’t help himself. It’s an open invitation and as weird as it is to admit, it feels like the universe is pushing him forward towards this. Expecting that he does what's asked of him, without complaining. Any doubt leaves his mind as he presses his lips against Kenny’s and slides his fingers into Kenny’s curls.

Kenny sighs into his mouth, hand still on his wrist as they kiss, and another hand right next to where Adam’s waist rests on the bed. Adam is thoroughly aware of all the points of contact as Kenny traces his tongue along Adam’s lower lip.

Adam digs his fingers into Kenny’s scalp almost on instinct, eliciting a sound from him that sends a thrill up his spine. He lets things move further finally, pulling him closer and finally letting his tongue in. Earlier, on the couch, he was taking his time, feeling this out. Now it feels like the wall between them has come down.

His actions are immediately rewarded with a needy moan as Kenny’s mouth opens and his head tilts back, the energy that’s been vibrating between them intensifying. The hand from his wrist slides down to his shoulder, pulling him closer as the response to Adam’s every motion grows hungrier.

_You only met two weeks ago._ His brain tries to tell him and the words are drowned out by the flood of every other emotion he can think of. His fingers rub circles into Kenny’s scalp and slide down until he’s gripping his shoulders and then finally his hands are wrapped around him, pressed into the small of his back. He wants another moan so he sucks Kenny’s tongue into his mouth again and feels him shiver. It’s too _good._

Kenny uses his hand as leverage to pull himself forward on the bed, until he is right up next to Adam, sliding his leg over Adam’s thigh and hooking it around. The fabric of his boxer briefs slides across Adam’s skin, giving way to a searing heat. Kenny pulls his mouth back for just a second, their lips still touching and slick, and Adam swallows hard. “It’s good.” He says, brain taking a second to catch up to his body. “It’s really good.” he really can’t think of anything else in the moment. All of this just _feels_ right. If Kenny wants to say anything, he gives him a chance, even if the hunger to keep going starts to bubble up inside of him.

“Yeah…” Kenny says, near-breathless, and pulls at Adam’s bottom lip with his lips. “This just feels… like I’ve known you forever. I know… it sounds cheesy, but it’s like. Like you can see into my soul.” Kenny’s hips hitch, and he bucks against Adam’s thigh as Adam feels the fabric between them getting damp.

“It’s fuckin’ weird, but you’re right.” Adam tells him before he kisses his lips quickly again, hands moving from Kenny’s back to play at the other man’s waistband. The idea of moving past this point makes his heart race like he’s a teenager again. “Is—this what you want?”

“Only—if you want it.” Kenny looks up in his eyes, and there’s that same shyness again, but he’s just as eager as Adam is. 

They are talking around it, but… Adam wants to hear Kenny say it. He opens his mouth to ask, but he suddenly feels something wet leak out of his nose and down his chin. It startles him out of his train of thought and he doesn’t think twice before scrambling backward and clicking on the bedside lamp. He tastes blood in his mouth and he realizes what’s about to happen.

“Adam?” Kenny asks, but he can barely hear it for the rushing in his ears.

Adam clutches his pillow tightly as a pain he’s never felt before races up his spine. He shuts his eyes tight even though that’s never stopped the death signs before and sees that blue fire again. He feels it. Like it’s right next to him. 

Even with his eyes closed, he can tell that something right in front of him is bright, making the flashing images he gets on the back of his eyelids look like a photographic negative.

No sooner do the images start than Kenny screams, and intense heat surrounds Adam. He gets a glimpse of a dead man on the beach, heart ripped clean from his chest and instead of the sign pulling him there almost instantly he opens his eyes to see… well he can’t really tell what he’s seeing. It’s too bright, Kenny’s eyes glowing with a fire that makes it hard to see anything else in the room, as the other man screams and grabs blindly for Adam.

One thing Adam can see is that his nose is bleeding too, the wetness reflecting that bright blue and purple flame.

But then almost as soon as it appears, it subsides, leaving nothing but the faint smell of smoke and a halo in Adam’s vision.

“Kenny—“ Adam grabs for him, fingers bloody from wiping his own nose and he can feel it dripping down to his chin again. “Are you okay?” It’s a stupid question. Who could be okay after that?

Kenny shakes himself before nodding numbly, breathing heavy. “Let’s… we should…” Kenny looks up, but Adam can barely see his face. “Is it always like that?”

“Not usually. Less… blood and pain. This is new.” Adam takes a deep breath. It smells like copper. “What did you see?” He almost doesn’t want to ask.

“Something… horrible on the beach. But we should go quickly, right? Together.” Kenny looks at him, what they were so close to doing previously entirely forgotten.

“Yeah… don’t really know how you fit into all this yet, but we should.” Adam gives his bloody hand one more look before he shuffles out of bed and heads to the bathroom. 

\--

“I know this is probably a stupid question, but, is it always this… messy?” Kenny’s wearing a fresh set of clothes as he surveys the scene at the beach. “I know there’s about a million questions I could be asking, but seeing as how the teleporting wasn’t as bad as every movie I’ve ever watched made it out to be… it seemed important to focus on the, uh, _gory_ details…”

“Depends.” Adam grimaces, but he doesn’t take a step forward, the sound of the waves crashing on the beach at 3am making his brain feel like static. It’s been two bloody and horrific death signs in two days. Yesterday it was Kenny being mangled in a car accident he didn't even see coming. Today it's… this. Open wound on the neck… a bite of some kind, and a heart torn straight out of a chest. Adam only knows one thing that eats warm human hearts. “If the spirit or whatever doesn't manifest I usually have to touch the body. Just… hang out over there or something and I’ll talk to the guy and then we can get out of here.” Adam looks at Kenny and then to the sand dunes just behind him. He doesn’t need to drag him into this—especially if this poor asshole has questions. 

“Are you… sure? Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, work together?” Kenny gives Adam a faint smile, like he’s trying to make something of the situation. . 

“Work together to do what?” Adam doesn’t mean to sound hostile, but he’s tired and his back hurts and he’s out on the beach in the middle of the night with someone he feels like he’s known forever but doesn’t know at all. “You don’t have to be involved in this. We don’t even really know why you’re seeing death signs. It’s better if I just do it and then we can leave.” He walks around to the other side of the body. If Kenny doesn’t have to be involved, Adam isn’t sure why he wants to be. Their connection is dizzying, but it’s not like it makes any sense. He’s just as alone in this as he always was. He shouldn’t have been stupid enough to think he’d catch a break. 

“Okay. Sure, yeah! I’ll just. Go sit on the dunes. Probably get it done quicker without having to explain everything to me, right?” Kenny gives him a smile that might be forced, but Adam is too tired to care. “Haha. Yeah.” Kenny shuffles off to the side before sitting down and pulling out his phone. 

Adam looks over at him one more time before getting to work. “Nasty son of a bitch that got you.” He whispers. Werewolves in Miami. One more thing to worry about. 

There’s no response yet, just the quietness of the Miami Beach after midnight. There’s still some faint noise—the highway, the bars downtown—but largely all he can hear is the surf crashing gently, and the wind blowing across the sandy dunes. It’s meditative, and would be beautiful if it didn’t mask an uglier truth.. Every time he does this he hears the voices of spirits he’d shuffled off before this. _“Why didn’t you stop it?” “Can’t you save anyone?” “Aren’t you supposed to be a God?”_ It makes his stomach turn a little. No he can’t save anyone. It’s the job. It’s the curse. It’s whatever he was unlucky enough to be saddled with after pissing off the meanest bastard he ever met. 

_“The Hangman watches people die. He doesn’t save them. Get used to it.”_

And then the worst thing. _“It’s your fault you’re like this. If you weren’t such an idiot you wouldn’t be stuck like this. The souls wouldn’t be stuck like this. Even as a God other people can’t help you.”_

He’s not a God. He’s just a man. A regular, fucked up, worthless man. And now he’s stuck. Adam shuts his eyes for a moment before he bends down and puts his hand on the corpse's shoulder. It’s… empty. No spirit. Nothing.

If he had anyone to help with this, he could maybe make some progress. But he’s knocked on Cody’s metaphorical door too much already… god. What a fuckin’ mess.

“Everything okay over there?” Kenny shouts, his voice distorted slightly by the wind.

“It’s fuckin’ fine!” Adam shouts. He doesn’t mean it the way it sounds.

Kenny doesn’t answer.

Great. 

Now what is he supposed to do with the body now that there is no soul to reap? 

He’s already decided that he can’t call Cody again and he’s not about to drag a body into the damn ocean. He’s never had to do this before and maybe the fact that the spirit is gone should concern him, but he’s more frustrated at himself that he’s so useless. Adam falls back into the sand and just… lays there for a moment.

Then he remembers something he read in a book once… that in the case of unfinished business, the spirit will go try to find the person who killed them, or find someone else to haunt. It’s not a sure thing, but it’s worth a start to find out more about the person, starting with the address on their ID…

Something else comes to mind a second after that. 

Kenny. Maybe this isn’t a normal death. Maybe Kenny felt the sign because the spirit went rogue after death. Refused to be shuffled off. Adam doesn’t know if that makes sense… hell, nothing makes sense anymore really, but it’s his best guess. He looks up at the dunes suddenly to try and get Kenny’s attention but… he’s gone, with a trail of footprints leading off over the dune and back towards the beach parking lot.

“...shit. Kenny!”

\--

It burns Kenny up, the things people can do. The harm they can cause. Pain, murder… it’s all so awful. The Bucks are right, even if they’re being a _little_ more pointed about it than they usually would be. If Adam is going to do his thing, if Adam is going to take him along and then ignore him, maybe Kenny can take things into his own hands. Kenny can work in parallel, can use whatever ‘powers’ he’s been given to try to solve things on his own terms. And that starts with following these signs he’s getting. Like an Ouija board, just… one that’s in his head.

**_getting warmer, I think_ **

**_it’s weird_ **

**_and making me kind of dizzy._ **

Kenny texts their group chat.

**_You know you could have asked us for help_** Nick replies. 

Seconds later another message. 

**But you were too busy making eyes at Death. How did that work out for you?**

Matt, please...

**Oh hey… don’t worry about Matt and Nick, Kenny. This is Adam Cole, by the way. I’ll make sure they have a friend to lean on since you’re not available apparently.**

**_Guys I said I was sorry! I made a mistake_ **

**_it won’t happen again_ **

**_I just hate you always feeling like you have to take care of me_ **

Kenny types and sends it all before even processing the most recent text, and then his brain catches up.

**_what the hell, guys_ **

**_I thought this was private_ **

**_are you letting this guy look at your phone??_ **

**_really???_ **

Kenny types back so frantically he almost trips and falls over a crack in the asphalt.

**They trust me. Can’t really say the same for you though.**

Silence from Matt and Nick. 

Then a jumble of things. 

**Fuck…**

**_sorry Kenny_ **

**he didn’t mean that**

**_he’s got matt’s phone_ **

**chill out, AC is just being AC.**

**_who the fuck is AC????_ **

Kenny doesn’t usually get mad at his best friends, but he’s a very private person, and the idea that someone he’s never even met is just trampling over that… he feels a heat burn within his chest. 

**_you know this is a huge invasion of privacy right?_ **

**_He’s not a stranger!_ **

**_You met him before!_ **

**Don’t you remember that time at South Beach??**

**_matt you know i don’t have a photographic memory like you do_ **

**_and i try to forget most times i’m introduced to people_ **

**Sorry!**

**Just… figure this out or whatever**

**_We’ll be here_ **

With Adam Cole, apparently. It makes Kenny’s heart hurt… rather than try to work things out, they just tell this guy everything about him? And let him taunt Kenny in their private group chat? He thought the Jacksons were his best friends, who he could trust with anything. But apparently… they don’t feel the same way.

His head hurts. His chest burns. Someone’s killing people. Ripping their _hearts_ out, no less. Death won’t even let him help… no one wants his help. He’s so worthless.

He needs to channel this feeling.

Someone out there deserves to _pay_ for killing people. Someone out there needs his help. He’s got powers… maybe it’s like the X-Men. Maybe they only come out in times of great stress.

Well, he’s feeling really fuckin stressed right now…

A howl sounds from the cluster of palm trees past the construction site Kenny’s apparently stumbled into.

And then a growl. Something so deep that if he were in any other mindset it might send shivers down his spine. 

“Kenny!” He suddenly hears his name being called from the concrete embankment at the water’s edge.

“Who’s there?!” Kenny asks, trying not to be too loud, crouching low to the cement in the reassuring bright circle under a streetlight.

“Kenny, are you up there?” It’s Adam’s voice, but the sudden noise startles whatever is in the grouping of palm trees out of hiding. It’s… fuck. 

A six foot tall, bloody mouthed wolf stands before him, snarling like Kenny’s backed him into a corner.

“Oh, _shit_ ,” Kenny says, quiet as a whisper. He’s frozen.

The wolf smells the air, like it’s smelling Kenny’s fear—a fear he’s not even sure he’s registering at the moment. He tries to take in as much as he can. The trail of blood from the snout, the still gore covered claws. It’s obvious suddenly what killed the man on the beach. It’s standing in front of him. 

“You… you killed him, didn’t you?” Kenny asks, shaking from adrenaline. His mind is numb. All he can think about is that bloody fur. Those shining teeth. 

No answer. Just a bloody gnash of teeth and then the wolf lunges forward, a creature of pure instinct and not much else at this point. 

“You killed him… and you don’t even know it. Just because it’s a full moon…” The numbness gives way to an all-encompassing anger and fury. “You didn’t even mean to. Something made you this way. You’re just a victim.” Kenny advances towards the creature, hardly realizing what he’s doing.

He doesn’t see Adam finally make his way up the steps from the beach to the parking lot he’s wandered into. He doesn’t hear him shout his name. 

The wolf is on all fours as it sprints toward Kenny, intent clear in its angry eyes.

“Revenge isn’t _sweet_... and it definitely won’t be served _cold_ ,” is what comes out of his mouth, his voice echoing with unholy power as Kenny’s body transforms into blue and purple flames that engulf the werewolf entirely.

Then he turns back, and solemn, flaming eyes meet Adam’s. “Time to introduce myself, Death. _Vengeance_ has been wrought today.”


	3. Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vengeance consumes Adam, and the Three Fates learn there is more to the job then even they know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the awesome comments and kudos. Hope you enjoy this installment.

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 3:** **Fate**

Adam smells burning hair first. Then it finally registers what’s happened. Well…  _ register  _ is maybe not the word. A lot just happened right in front of him, and none of it makes any sense.

But he’s trying to piece things together the best he can.

Starting with why the figure in front of him is literally blue and purple fire that is kinda man-shaped.

“Kenny…?” He’s called the name so many times on the way up here his voice is a little hoarse. It cracks.

“Vengeance.”

“O...okay? Using different names…” Adam is staring straight ahead even if it is hurting his eyes a bit to do so. The fire is so bright. “This is new.”

“I’m here to help you. To make things a little easier.” The flaming Vengeance-Kenny walks closer, then smiles, but there’s something slightly disconcerting about the way he does it. Adam can’t quite put his finger on why.

“Ah,” Adam is careful with his words. “Okay.” 

He’s hardly processing what he’s seeing even though it… really shouldn’t surprise him? He does reap souls, after all... and just touching Kenny before told him he was the missing piece. He just didn’t understand why... he still doesn’t. A missing piece of what? “You doin’ alright?” He’s traded in the self loathing he was feeling minutes ago for concern...for the moment.

“I’m perfect, Death. You can reap the soul, now.” The flaming man side-steps, and makes a too-delicate gesture with his hands toward the space he formerly inhabited.

Adam swallows hard and even though the night air is uncommonly chilly, he suddenly feels like he’s burning up just being in the presence of the blue flames still encircling Kenny. He finally looks past Kenny’s outstretched hand and sees the remains before the spirit materializes, something born out of the ashes scattering on the concrete.

He notices Kenny regarding him dispassionately, his gaze a physical thing as Adam tends to his job. He absentmindedly wonders if there is some sort of off switch to whatever is going on with Kenny. A bleak attempt at internal humor as he grabs the spirit by the collar before he has the chance to bolt. He’s never had to deal with a chase before, but a murderer is a murderer… it’s the only time this job makes sense. When things are black and white. 

“Don’t.” Simple words and before the spirit can ask questions or say anything in return, it explodes into a million particles of light. 

“Wonderful. Trash is  _ allll _ cleaned up!” The laughter with whatever distortion has overtaken Kenny’s voice is maybe the worst thing yet. It sets Adam’s nerves on edge. 

“Hey, man. What’s going on with you? I know we’re workin’ out this whole thing, but what is this?” Adam gestures broadly to all of Kenny and he’s not exactly sure what he’s even asking, but he finds himself wanting an explanation anyway. “You were freaked out ten minutes ago and now you set a werewolf on fire which was  _ not _ a great idea, by the way.”

“It was… the  _ perfect _ thing to do, dear Death!” Something about Kenny’s cadence is weird and… stilted, but he continues: “For you see… the world is in chaos all around us. Just an out-and-out  _ mess _ ! But now… Vengeance has come. It’s time for a clean slate. Together, you…  _ and  _ I… can right wrongs.” The flaming man steps closer. Adam feels the searing heat but isn’t burned, and Kenny’s voice gets a bit of an edge to it, an angry teasing growl. “We can  _ take out  _ the trash. Lighten  _ your _ burdens, because otherwise…these rabid  _ beasts  _ would take out as many poor souls as they could muster. Don’t you see? We’re two  _ great  _ tastes!” He opens his arms widely to the sky.

_ That taste great together.  _ Adam mentally finishes the sentence on instinct. He’s… well concerned isn’t exactly the word for it. But his heart hammers hard in his chest as he takes a step backward. “Hey what the fuck, actually.” He mutters it more to himself than the being in front of him. “What did you do to Kenny?” It’s clear who he’s talking to both is and isn’t the man he came here with.

“Kenny  _ is  _ Vengeance.  _ Vengeance  _ is  _ Kenny _ . The spirit of vengeance was  _ destined  _ to manifest in Kenny Omega, to partner with Death. I’m just a cleaner distillation of Kenny’s hopes and dreams for the world, Adam.” Kenny’s flaming fingers come to gently grasp Adam’s chin, tilting it backwards, as his smile manifests, white teeth surrounded by flame. “Tell me you’d rather go it alone.”

Adam feels his whole body tense and his heart almost stop for a moment. “G-glad you know what’s goin’ on.” It’s sarcastic, but he knows it didn’t have nearly the venom he wanted it to. He can’t think. His brain is too static. “Because I fuckin’ don’t.”

“Shhh. It’s all going to be okay. I’m here to serve…” He leans in, and presses a kiss that feels like passion incarnate to Adam’s lips. “ _ You. _ ”

Adam’s heart really does stop. He feels it this time, dead in his chest suddenly, but it doesn’t hurt—he’s too enveloped in the feeling of the kiss and the flame surrounding him. 

_ No… _

He takes a gasping breath when he finally stumbles backward and away.

“What’s wrong, babe?” The expression Kenny is making reminds Adam of someone pursing their lips.

“Oh I don’t know…” Adam presses a hand to his chest. His heart is beating again. “How about  _ everything. Gods… _ ”

“Tell me what to do. Give me an order.” Kenny pulls Adam closer again, his voice is urgent and he kisses his cheek, his chin, his lips.

Adam feels compelled, but he tries to twist it. “F-fuck—stop being on fucking fire for a second.” At least maybe then he can breath without flames devouring him and all the oxygen in the air.

“Okay. Your wish is my command.” The flames hiss and fall away, revealing a Kenny with hints of pink and blue in his blond hair, and one glowing eye. Gone is his casual attire, replaced with a leather jacket, matching black pants, and no shirt. His voice still has the same echo, and his eyes are still blue fire. “Better?” He kisses Adam’s chin again with too-hot lips. 

Worse. This is worse.

Kenny might not be on fire any longer, but Adam’s gut burns as he feels hands clad with leather gloves brush against his thigh, lips still lingering on his skin. Kenny cuts an impressive image like this, but he’s trying not to let lust get the better of him, no matter if what's happening is making him wobbly-legged. He’s got other things to be worried about. Is Kenny stuck like this now? Adam has no idea what he’s going to tell his friends. “You know—” he tries to change the subject. “Your friends are going to blame this on me.” He grabs ahold of the lapels of that leather jacket, keeping Kenny just a breath away from him.

“Let’s not borrow trouble. Think only about me…” Kenny leans in again, rubbing Adam’s chin and thigh with his thumbs as he works the other man’s lips open with his tongue. 

“Mmm.” Adam moves to speak again, but any words are swallowed by a kiss, a filthy one at that. It takes him by surprise and he tries not to melt, holding desperately onto the lapels of Kenny’s leather jacket like some sort of life raft. He manages to pull back with a whimper. “We’re… not doing this here.” he tries to say it with authority. Like his body isn’t screaming at him to keep going.

“What do you  _ think _ we’re doing, Hangman? We’re just  _ kissing _ …” Kenny does that knowing smirk again.

Only one other person has ever called Adam that. It makes his jaw clench. “You think I’m stupid enough to think you’d push it farther out in the middle of a parking lot?” He tries to use the bit of leverage he has to push Kenny backwards just a little, getting some space between them. “We’re not kissing or doing anything else until you give me a real answer. What do you want and why  _ me _ ? Just facts.”

“Why, I… hrnn. Pfft, Hangman, Death, what _ ever _ you want to be called, I told you, aren’t you  _ listening _ ? We’re 2 peas in a pod! We’re like… Zeus and Hermes. Wait, no,” he shakes his head, “Bad example. We’re like… Galactus and the Silver…  _ Surfer _ . Does that help?”

Death and… his herald. It clarifies, but Adam doesn’t think it helps. 

“I’m not in charge of you. I can’t be in charge of anyone, I’m not even in charge of myself most of the time. So whatever _ this _ is?” Adam points between them. “I’m not ordering you around.” Ground rules. He shouldn’t have to be doing this, not at 2 a.m. in the middle of a deserted hospital parking lot.

“Fine. I can forge my own path, then.” Kenny smiles dangerously. “Why don’t we go home, Hangman? You look… tired.”

The words sit heavy in Adam’s chest. He doesn’t like the way that sounds, but he can’t exactly tell why. He  _ is _ tired though, that’s something that Kenny is right about. “I need a drink.” He whispers to himself before the scrubs at his face. “Yeah. Home.” he takes a breath and looks up at the sky. He can hardly see anything due to the light pollution. Kenny, or whatever’s inhabiting him, does try to lace his fingers through Adam’s. His instinct is to pull away... but he doesn’t. As much as Adam doesn’t want to admit it to himself, he’s got a responsibility here. If Kenny is still in there—he needs to try and pull him out. Just… not now. 

“Don’t worry about me. This time, I’m going to take care of you.” It’s almost soft enough to bring Adam’s guard down. For now.

\--

Trent looks at the Magic 8-Ball sitting on the table. Unmoving. Can something that’s not alive taunt you? It definitely feels like it. “I just want to state for the record. I hate this.”

“Muhh,” Orange says, which Trent basically takes as agreement at this point.

It’s all he’s going to get, anyway. And that’s the way he’s been taking Orange’s grunts of displeasure. If he didn’t think the 8-Ball was cursed before, he absolutely does now. It’s been doing a number on all of their mental states over the past 2 weeks and Trent is convinced that ever since he suggested to Chuck that they throw it out, it’s been punishing them somehow. Compelling them all to just stare at it for hours on end.

“You know what?” Trent hops up suddenly, and makes a quick motion for the ball, scooping it up. “You know what?!? Fuck this actually!” Trent keeps it in one hand as he walks briskly to the door and pulls his zip-up hoodie and hat on. The 8-Ball goes in his pocket, and the hat keeps his hair in place.

“Chuck.” Orange calls from his spot at the kitchen table and Trent barely hears it before he’s out the door. He’s not changing his mind. Not even Chuck can make him. He’s getting rid of this thing once and for all. He’s not going to be beholden to any stupid cursed item or whatever the fuck.

“Shit, Trent…  _ Trent _ !” he hears from the open window behind him. Thankfully Chuckie had his nose buried in his Switch, so Trent has a head start as he starts running full tilt down the street like he’s Forrest Gump or some shit.

Just one good throw against the rocks on the beach and this thing will be out of their lives. Then maybe they can finally get back to having a normal one. Or at least as much of a normal one as they can have. Maybe he should just throw it the fuck off into the ocean instead. That way no one would ever find it again.

“Yeah, you know what?” He feels it burning in his pocket as he hefts it, looking from the palm-lined path to the sidewalk leading onto the 79th Street bridge, and continues running down the sidewalk.

He can hear Chuckie yelling from behind him. 

“Fuck--dude stop. That thing might kill you!” 

Trent doesn’t know if any of that is true, but he knows he’s gotta get rid of it as it’s literally burning a hole through his pocket. 

“Ya  _ yeet _ !” Trent yells like a rallying cry as he keeps running, using his momentum to hurl the 8-Ball off the bridge, not even really looking at it as it falls and falls and falls. His adrenaline finally wears off and he stumbles to a stop before leaning over and breathing heavily.

It’s not long before the sound of Chuck’s shoes can be heard on the sidewalk and he slows to a stop as well, bending over to grab his knees, breathing heavily before he finally looks up at Trent. “Fuck dude… have you been jogging? Fastest man alive…” He mumbles before he looks back down at the sidewalk.

“Yeah… been playing… a lot of Pokemon Go…” Trent finally sinks to the ground, just breathing heavily.

“Damn.” Chuck finally sinks down with him, sitting cross legged on the sidewalk together in the middle of the day. “That thing really gone?” 

“Hope so… better fuckin’ be.”

“You okay?” Chuck asks, almost too soft to hear, deeply inhaling afterward as he tries to breath through the mid-day humidity. 

“God, Chuckie. I don’t know. I’m sitting on a fuckin highway sidewalk with my lungs burning after pulling a fucking Stone Cold.” He turns towards the other man as much as he can. “Are  _ you _ okay?”

“Now that I see you didn’t burst into flames or melt because you pissed off a ghost inside of a toy that was probably bought at a Spencer’s Gifts once… yeah. I’m okay.” Chuck shuffles a little closer, his Sixers jersey soaked through with sweat.

“Good.” Trent wraps around as much as he can to wrap Chuck in an approximation of a hug. “Let’s go home.”

“Okay… maybe when I can actually move again.” Chuck laughs and it’s followed by a groan. 

\--

Chuck thinks he has a nightmare about the Magic-8-Ball a couple days later, but it’s so stupid that he shoves it out of his mind before he can dwell on it too much. It hasn’t exactly been normal since Trent yeeted the thing into the ocean, but it’s been  _ better _ . Orange had started actually talking again and if he’s thankful for anything he’s thankful for that. It’s always been hard to tell what Orange is thinking, but having the 8-Ball around made it seem like his friend was trapped in a prison with his own thoughts. Or… maybe not a prison  _ exactly _ , but at the very least, like it took too much willpower not to just stare at it 24/7 that there was little energy for anything else. 

He flops back on the pillows on the bed and absentmindedly listens to the bacon sizzling in the kitchen. He’s pretty sure Trent has been trying to apologize for nearly giving him a heart attack the other day in every way but actually saying it. He hears a knock on the door, before Trent uses the foot he was knocking with to wedge the door open, revealing a shirtless man carrying a plate of bacon and eggs in one hand, and black coffee in the other. “Rise and shine…” he says before walking over and planting a kiss to Chuck’s forehead. “Breakfast in bed, sealed with a kiss. Hotel-quality, if I do say so myself.”

He’d say Trent being shirtless was just a ploy too, but Trent is almost always shirtless. “I was awake, but I still appreciate the sentiment. Your eggs are fuckin’ way better than a hotel’s anyway, dude.” Chuck swipes a piece of bacon off the plate still in Trent’s hand. “Give yourself some credit.” 

“Well, thank you. I do take some credit.” Trent sets the plate down on the bed before hopping into the bed opposite. “I watched a lot of Youtube videos when I moved out of New York.”

“How come you never cooked like this for me when we lived in Philly?” Chuck asks with a mouthful of bacon.

“Oh, did I say New York? I meant Philly… I, um. I always figured, well, you know, Mom was right there and her cooking is so good… that I’d never really  _ need _ to cook…” Trent looks kind of embarrassed, like there’s something he’s not telling Chuck.

“Dude. You know I’m just givin’ you a hard time, right?” Chuck smirks a little. “But it seems like you’re still freaking out a little.”

“I mean, I was more just thinking that back then, I was… I dunno, I thought it’d be like…” Trent laughs, self-deprecatingly. “ _ Gay  _ or something if I learned how to cook.”

“Yeah because making sure you can eat is super gay.” Chuck rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. He’s not sure he could ever really be angry or frustrated with Trent. They just don’t work like that. “But it’s better now, even if Miami is not Philly.”

“Yeah, it kinda sucks? But I guess we’re stuck here now. Fuckin haunted job offer.” Trent sighs. “No one I’d rather be stuck with, though.”

“You’re forgetting me,” says an unexpected voice from the door.

“Ah!” Chuck jumps almost out of his skin. “Don’t  _ do _ that, Orange! Jesus!”

“Breakfast?” Orange asks, hardly phased by Chuck’s outburst, though that’s nothing new. 

“Damn… I’m sure Trent made you something. How you feelin’ anyway?”

“Better.” Orange shrugs, and pulls the arm he’d been leaning on the doorframe into Trent and Chuck’s room. Of course he’s holding a glass of orange juice.

“Awesome. No other weird stuff, just normal weird stuff?” He’s gotta ask, just because he’s ready for that fuckin’ thing to roll back into their apartment any second.

Orange comes over to perch on the end of their bed like a cat, before stealing a piece of bacon. “Nnope.”

Chuck thinks, finally, things might be settling down. It feels like it did a month ago when all they had to worry about is the weird static in the TV during basketball games. “I’ll drink to that.” He raises his coffee cup up before taking a sip. Finally some room to breath. At least that’s what he thinks.

—

“Nice car,” Kenny says, leaning against the side of Adam’s pickup truck as Adam digs his keys out of his pocket. Those still-glowing eyes are staring through him, and it’s a bit unnerving. “Bet this does you really well in Miami, huh?”

“Fuck off.” Adam grumbles under his breath, but he makes sure the words are as pointed as he wants them to be. “I haven’t said shit about,” He looks Kenny up and down once, trying to find something, anything that’s not infuriatingly attractive. He can’t pick out a flaw. “Just whatever.” He opens the driver side door. “Are you gonna get in or are you too good to ride in my truck?” 

“Just waiting for you to unlock the door.” Kenny clicks his tongue before going over to the other side, hopping in, and immediately digging in the glovebox. “Ah, here we are…” He finds what he’s looking for… of course Adam has a practical pair of sunglasses. He puts them on. “How do I look, Hangman?”

“You look ridiculous wearing sunglasses at night.” Adam only spares him a glance, putting the keys in the ignition and listening to his old truck rumble to life. At least it's one thing he can always count on. “That’s what I think.” He purses his lips before he shifts it into reverse and tries not to look at Kenny as he focuses on the task of driving.

“Thought it might be better. So my eyes don’t distract you.” Kenny laughs, before falling quiet as Adam drives back. Then, suddenly, he feels the warm tickle of fingers on his thigh.

“You’re a piece of work, aren’t you?” Adam barks even though he feels his breath catch in his throat at the contact. “You know… what if I said I wanted to talk to Kenny. Would that be an order that you’d technically  _ have  _ to follow?” As soon as he says it, Adam can’t help but think about what exactly  _ is  _ happening to the man he came here with. Did he simply cease to exist when Vengeance took over? 

“...I _am_ Kenny. I told you already. Vengeance manifested _in_ _me_. See, the problem is, you’re trying to logic all this out in your brain.” Kenny laughs. “It’s not a _logic_ thing, Hangman. Now shh. Re _lax_.” Kenny squeezes Adam’s thigh tightly.

“Not a logic thing. Then what is it exactly?” Adam just stares straight ahead, not looking at the hand on his thigh.

“It’s… You feel it, don’t you? When you’re acting out of desperation… sometimes  _ feeling _ is what takes over.” Kenny’s thumb rubs Adam in a dangerously-distracting path on his thigh. “That’s when I felt it. That’s when this new gift… I mean, you’ve at least seen an X-Men movie, right? Surely I don’t have to explain this kind of… superhero origin.”

“So you’re a superhero now? Is that how we’re playing this? You seem to know all this stuff I don’t know and I’ve had this shitty job for almost 8 months. So what do you have that I don’t have?” Adam grips the steering wheel tighter.

“I don’t have some magical knowledge. I told you. I have a feeling. I have…” He hikes his hand higher, brushing the fabric of Adam’s zipper fly. “ _ Instincts _ .”

“Instincts which tell you to try and give me a handjob while I am driving?” Adam bites his bottom lip after he says it. They are a minute or two away from their compex of condos and he’s not entirely sure what's going to happen once they get there.

“Oh, is that what you want? I somehow don’t think you’re a quickie kind of guy, Hangman. Heh.”

“Fuck…” Adam just swears, frustration bubbling up in a way that’s hard for him to contain. He feels like Kenny is running circles around him mentally, like he’s one step ahead like this and he’s just playing catch up. “I should have just left you on the damn beach.” It’s all bluster. He never would have done that and Kenny knows it.

“I’ll put my hand away, if you don’t want it…” Kenny presses his thumb in a line up along Adam’s cock before it goes back in his lap.

Adam nearly slams his truck into park when they arrive back finally, grabbing Kenny’s hand and pulling him nearly all the way across the center console. “If you wanna play games--” The teasing was the last straw. “I can play games right back. You want me? Tell me why.” Their faces are inches apart. 

“Because…” Kenny takes Adam’s chin even tighter than when they kissed before, “I’m tied to you. Because you want me, too. Because you’re a good kisser. Because you have an incredible body. Because you make me so  _ fucking _ hot. Because. I just felt your cock, and I want to swallow it whole.” He smirks, and his eyes glow through those sunglasses. “That enough?”

If this was a game of chicken. And he’s not sure that it isn’t. Adam knows he’s just lost. His cock is hard in his shorts and his jaw aches from where Kenny has a hold of his chin. A dam breaks inside of him, and every creeping thought, every sensation he remembers from the parking lot just 20 minutes earlier, comes flooding back. Adam pushes forward and his mouth crashes against Kenny’s in a harsh kiss.

Kenny moans like Adam’s satisfied a craving, his head tipping back to let Adam fill his mouth, and everything immediately feels so right and not enough at the same time. It’s so clear when they are pressed together like this, Adam’s lips desperate in the way they kiss Kenny, hungry and burning as his belly warms and he feels trapped in his own skin. “Outside—“ he moans against Kenny’s mouth before kissing the corner of his lips, his cheek, his chin.

“Yeah, duh, your truck is sexy, cowboy, but it’s not that sexy.” Kenny breathes against Adam’s cheek before leaning back to the other side, popping the door open, and getting out.

Adam takes a deep breath when he’s finally alone for a moment. He bargains with himself, feeling his want but silently remembering he’s dealing with something that distinctly isn’t the man he kissed before. It’s thrilling, but terrifying at the same time. He’s never felt  _ need _ like this before. Adam shakes his head and slides out of the truck, glancing at Kenny before making a bee line for his front door.

No sooner are they both inside the door than Kenny closes the door by putting his body between it and Adam. He arches his back so his chest is sticking out towards Adam, and his full lips fall open, practically begging to be used.

“You said you wanted to suck my cock.” Adam’s own words echo in his head. He feels so hot… “So get on your knees and beg me for it.”

“Make me,” Kenny growls, before whipping his sunglasses off so Adam can see the fire burning in his eyes.

Adam narrows his eyes and shivers, feeling heat peel off of him at the challenge. The light in the entranceway flickers and in two steps he’s cornering Kenny, pressing his back against the door. “You don’t get to tease and then not follow through.” He slides his hands up Kenny’s bare chest.

Kenny’s head goes back further, and he moans as Adam cups his chest. Adam feels some flicker of heat urging him on, to teach Kenny a lesson, to claim what’s… his?

_ His. _

It’s a discordant echo inside of his mind, but it doesn’t stop him. It just pushes him. Adam feels Kenny’s too hot skin and he looks at him— _ really _ looks at him. He sees how Kenny’s smooth, freckled, lightly-tanned skin stretches over muscles, the sharpness of definition there that shouldn’t be real, but is. Adam’s fingers tease defined pecs and brush over already-hard nipples. The flame inside of him doesn’t doesn’t quiet, but he’s focused on this now. Seeing it almost for the first time after his refusal in the beach parking lot. “Just look at you.” He drawls, southern accent thick on his tongue suddenly.

Kenny just whines in response, a throaty, keening thing, before managing, “Please… Death…”

Adam lets his fingers leave skin and then he’s squeezing Kenny’s shoulders, fingers digging into the leather of Kenny’s jacket as he pushes him down. He feels Kenny almost melt beneath him as he sinks to his knees and hears the sunglasses Kenny was holding clatter on the tile floor, discarded and forgotten about. He puts a hand in Kenny’s hair and holds him in place, inches away from his obvious arousal straining against his still-zipped shorts. “I said. Beg me for it.”

“Please, Death—use me… teach me a lesson for being such a bad, bad boy,” Kenny says with a whimper, before his lax mouth pulls up into the hint of a smirk again. 

Adam realizes he’s being driven forward by something he can’t quite understand, not just the passion that burns like real fire in his gut. It’s easy to let everything else fall away. No responsibility, no anxieties, no confusion… just Kenny on his knees asking for this. “Then go on. Get to it.” He presses Kenny just a little bit closer, intent on not giving him help. Making him do the work. 

Kenny leans forward as much as he can, tongue working into Adam’s fly and flicking the cold metal of the zipper around. Adam can feel the instant heat where Kenny’s tongue touches it. 

Adam bites his lip and digs his fingers into Kenny’s scalp, encouraging and demanding all at the same time. He feels cool air against him as his boxer briefs are exposed, his shorts sliding down his legs as if Kenny’s tongue was liquid fire and the metal of the zipper keeping them in place was melted away. He breathes deeply and then whimpers when he feels Kenny’s lips on the thin fabric still keeping him at bay. 

Kenny licks at it, cotton sticking to his tongue and making Adam’s toes curl. 

He’s impatient and hooks his thumbs under the waistband of his boxer briefs before pushing them down abruptly. Despite everything, he still feels his cheeks flush when he’s exposed like this. Adam wasn’t lying when he said it had been years.

“Look at you…” Kenny breathes, before kissing the soft, exposed skin of Adam’s cock reverently… before his tongue lolls out and twists, wrapping around the head.

There is nothing to grip onto but Kenny himself, so Adam steadies himself by grabbing Kenny’s shoulder with one hand, and keeping his other hand tangled in those soft curls. In that moment, as Adam looks into Kenny’s fiery eyes, he has a realization. Even more obviously than before, like this it’s clear some undefinable but  _ essential _ piece of Kenny has shifted to create something darker—the way his tongue is twisting around the head of Adam’s cock feeling every bit as inhuman as his too-warm lips, his too-bright eyes. 

Above anything else… even past his initial reservations... it makes Adam crave  _ more _ . And that’s an urge he won’t ignore.

\--

“Hey Chuck. Come eat some wings and stop staring out the window like you’re fucking Arnold Hitchcock, will ya?”

“You mean Alfred Hitchcock, you dumbass?” Chuck shakes his head, a laugh bubbling out of him even though his brain still seems set on worrying about things he can’t control. Items that might come rolling in from the depths of the ocean even though they are supposed to be gone. Seems as plausible as anything else, honestly.

“Yeah, that guy.” Trent says, laughing too. “I got more of that internet hot sauce you like. Just in time for the  _ big game _ .”

“Listen. The Sixers are gonna beat The Lakers this year, I can feel it in my fuckin’ bones, man.” The conversation finally pulls him out of his trance at the window. “And maybe that won’t fix everything in the world that fuckin’ sucks, but it’s a start.” 

“Yeah, you gotta have something, right? I mean, seriously,  _ fuck _ the Lakers. Especially Dion Waiters. Geez, what a… a knucklehead.” Trent shakes his head before grabbing the remote to turn the TV on and settling into the couch.

“Knucklehead is the best thing you got for  _ that  _ guy? Love to see your other insults.” Chuck follows him back, sprawling on the couch as it finally just feels right with Trent here. “What’s next? Gonna start turning into a good Christian boy in the middle of a city with an active hellmouth. Sounds dangerous.”

“Christian  _ A F _ ,” Trent says with an emphatic chuckle before resting his hand on Chuck’s shoulder. “Demons got  _ no _ chance with me.”

“See you say that, but it doesn’t account for the fact that that girl you brought back here a couple times? I’m pretty sure turned into a vampire or some shit. This place is bad for your health in the worst goddamn way.” It’s an understatement; even they are still trying to wrap their brains around it, and they know more than most.

“Candice? Nah, man. I mean, maybe. I think she mostly just went goth.”

“Hard to tell around here. Just as long as that shit doesn’t leak in here, we’re good.”

“I poured cinnamon on the stoop to keep the ants out, and salt to keep everything else out.” Trent pauses and turns to look at him. “You don’t think those, like, fuck with each other, do you?”

Chuck can’t help himself, he just starts laughing. Half because of the absurdity of the situation and half because of Trent’s delivery, the well-meaning confusion. “Fuck… dude.” He breaths through it, but he can’t help himself. “I don’t know. It sounds like you were trying to season the front steps.”

Trent’s laughing with him. “Maybe--I can sprinkle--oh, god, sprinkle some  _ cayenne pepper _ on there too… to keep cats away--fuck!”

“Jesus Christ this is stupid.” Chuck is still laughing, wiping tears from his eyes before he leans his head on Trent’s shoulder, looking at the TV through watery eyes.

“Missed one,” Trent says, before taking a thumb and wiping the top of Chuck’s cheek, still pulled taut from his smile.

Chuck sighs, shutting his eyes against the familiar sounds of the game and the comforting weight of Trent right next to him. He’s not the most sentimental of guys, but even if this whole thing, this whole  _ being stuck in a hellmouth _ is the worst shit he’s ever had to deal with… things just might be okay because Trent is here with him. “Thanks, dude.”

“I always got your back.” A brief pause before he raises his voice. “Orange? You eating?! Game’s on!!”

“Here.” Orange says from the kitchen doorway before he takes down his sunglasses just slightly. Chuck has never seen him without them, even when he’s sleeping. “What flavor?”

“We got lemon pepper, uh, some kind of umami Asian dry rub that’s really good? And regular old honey barbecue.” Trent looks at the containers a little guiltily. “We couldn’t decide.”

“It’s better to have variety.” Chuck adds and he sees Orange step forward and he sits next to Trent on the other side of him before he picks up a container and brings it to his lap, claiming it. “Fuck dude, you still gotta share.”

“Which one’d he take?” Trent peers over Chuck’s shoulder at the wing assortment.

“Lemon pepper because he’s a fuckin’ weirdo.” 

“Oh, well, he can have that one then,” Trent shrugs and turns up the volume on the TV. “That’s the one I didn’t like.”

“ _ Boundaries _ , man! We gotta set boundaries with him, or he’s gonna fuckin’ end up sleeping on our bedroom floor.” Chuck jokes and settles back against Trent before finally focusing on the game. He wasn’t joking when he told Trent that this would be the Sixers’ year, and he wasn't trying to just be annoying when he said they needed cable so they could watch the games. It’s  _ important.  _ Which is why he lets out a loud sigh when the TV goes to static a minute later. “What… the FUCK.”

“Orange, can you...” Orange reaches out with a lazy leg, tapping the cable box with his foot a couple times. The picture flickers, and looks like it’s going to work again for a moment, but then just goes back to static. 

Orange shrugs with his hands still holding the wing container. “I tried.”

“Yeah, yeah, you did try,” Trent says with a weary sigh. “Let me… maybe Twitter has something to say… ‘Commmm-caaaast,’” he says as he types. “Wait, fuck, no, it’s Xfinity down here. Fuck! ‘X-fin-it-teeee…’ Man, it’s just somebody complaining that they should bring back the Sopranos—that was years ago! Tony died!”

“Ambiguous,” Orange pipes up.

Trent shoots him a glare. “What?!”

“He’s right, they were all shoveling onion rings into their mouths while Journey played. You can take it any way you want to.” Chuck adds, though he feels like sinking further into the couch. He grabs the remote and just as he’s about to change the channel the screen flickers again, but this time—something else appears.

“Everyone’s against me,” Trent grumbles. “Even the cable box—what the fuck’s it doing now? Ugh, what is that, a spellbook?”

_ “Where the fuck did that moon come from? Jesus, Jon, you’re losing it,” _ the man on the TV says as he walks out of a warehouse with the word ‘Ace’ on the side in big red letters. He leans up against the side of the building and lights a cigarette.

“I swear to god, if this is some freaky horror channel—” Trent says nervously. He always tries to sound like a big, strong guy, but Chuck knows he secretly hates horror and gore.

“No man… but didn’t this show end this year? Like the one with the car and the brothers?”

“I don’t think there’s a Jon in that one. Is there?” Trent puts his hands over his eyes. “I can’t—Chuck, you gotta change the channel, man.”

“It’s fine. It’s not the same show, this guy is way more handsome. Maybe we got like unscrambled porn or something? Like the reverse of what you usually get?” Chuck tries to reason out, but he’s not sure it’s reasonable at all.

The TV statics again, and everything’s blurry and indistinct. There’s an animalistic whimpering, and everything is dark.  _ "Ah fuck _ — _ Son of a bitch… stay still.” _

“What’s happening?” Trent asks. “There’s not a dog is there?”

“No, that’s a werewolf? It’s hard to fuckin’ see.” 

The scene continues to play out and Chuck watches the half-clear images as they flick by.  _ “Just suck it up,”  _ that gruff voice says. The image skips again, and then there is a bloody knife scratching symbols in the dirt. The last thing he sees that’s unscrambled is the massive wolf nuzzling into Jon, then both of them asleep in the vacant lot. The TV turns static again. 

“Actually. I’m not sure that wasn’t porn.” Chuck is still staring at the TV. 

“Team Edward sucks,” is Orange’s comment.

It’s quiet for a moment before Trent finally says, “Werewolves. Huh. That’s a new one.”

Chuck can’t hold it in anymore even as the game flickers back on. “Are we just gonna ignore how fucked up this is?!” He gestures wildly at the TV.

“I don’t know what to say, man. First the 8-Ball, now this. I mean, we don’t have to work… I know we wanted to watch the game, but I’m trying to think of the positives here, okay?” Trent stands up, and holds his arms wide while gesturing with his hands for Chuck. “C'mere, c'mere.”

Chuck almost collapses into Trent. He’s just. So frustrated. Normally he wouldn’t let it bother him, but after the fiasco with the 8-Ball and his constant worry that it might come back or things might get worse… he just can’t keep it in anymore. He presses his face into Trent’s shoulder and screams.

“Shhh, shh-shh,” Trent reassures him, rocking him side-to-side in the hug, as his hand cups the back of Trent’s head, stroking his hair. “Let it out. Let it out.”

He feels another body press up against him and reach arms around him too, squeezing him... before pulling away and leaving he and Trent alone. He appreciates Orange more than the other man might ever know.

“Can’t we just… go home?” Chuck asks and it’s stupid, he knows it is. This  _ is _ their home now, and he doesn’t even hate it as much as he should. He just hates this supernatural bullshit that creeps in when he’s least expecting it.

“Hey. I’ll follow you wherever you wanna go, okay?” Trent moves a hand to rub Chuck’s back. “But these people need our help. If we go… I know it isn’t fair. But if we go, I think a lot of bad shit happens behind our backs. And I know you don’t want that.”

Chuck wants a million things at once that he can’t quite pick apart. He wants to see the gloomy Philadelphia skyline. He wants to be frustrated by dumbass drivers on the Turnpike. He wants to hear people screaming in the streets on game days… he wants the simple life they had before everything got bigger than them. 

He just also knows Trent is right. 

“Do you still have that pamphlet that asshole left us when we got here?” He mumbles against Trent’s shirt.

“Yeah, I put it in the drawer along with the soy sauce packets you tried to throw away.”

“Maybe,” he finally looks up at Trent. “We should start figuring out what the fuck is going on.” 


	4. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, a nightmare arrives, and things are not what they seem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all against for the kudos and comments! Please remember to leave a comment if you like the fic!

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 4: Nightmare**

Somebody made a poor choice when they decided to put the slab of granite for the kitchen island in more than one piece. Adam can see seams held together by a shitty patch job from his view from the floor. The thin kitchen rug on cold tile isn’t anywhere in the neighborhood of comfortable, but he feels like he can’t move. He’s hardly even sure he’s awake. The last 24 hours feel like a blur. Adam doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t even make a sound. The light is pouring in through the window so at least it must be morning.

“Ugh, my head…” a voice says from above him. 

Flashes flicker through Adam’s memory, enough that he at least has some context for why he’s under the kitchen counter and why there’s a voice above him… not that it makes things any better. 

_Son of a bitch._ Adam takes a deep breath, but he still doesn’t want to move. He shuts his eyes against the light and maybe even a little pettily, to stop Kenny from noticing he’s awake. He still needs to just… process everything that’s happened.

“Son of a _bitch_ , what did we even _do_ on here, ugh! I’m all… sticky…” Kenny mutters with disdain. “Hangman? You awake? You might want to… clean your counter…” There’s a wet sucking noise, and Kenny groans before his feet pop into Adam’s vision, slowly sliding towards the ground.

Adam weighs his options. He could play possum or actually get up and deal with all of this.

His aching body makes the decision for him: the floor is fucking hard. “Fuck.” He groans out, unable to just stay still any longer.

“Oh, there you are. Perfect. I was going to go get a shower, unless… you want to join me?” Kenny smiles brightly at him--too brightly.

“You go. I’ve… gotta realign my vertebrae.” Adam groans as he finally pulls himself up. He only has his boxer briefs on; he must have had at least the forethought not to sleep naked on the floor. He hangs onto one of the chairs near the island, his back cracking unpleasantly as he twists around. 

Kenny’s footsteps recede into the hallway as he hums some odd staccato melody, leaving Hangman alone in the messy kitchen with his pain and his thoughts.

He hasn’t had a drop to drink, but this feels like a hangover. Adam presses his face into the chair cushion, staying like that for a good couple of moments before he finally manages to get to his feet. He hears his back crack and grimaces before stretching out all his screaming muscles. He doesn’t even wanna _look_ at the kitchen counter.

Down the hall, the shower turns on, hissing gently.

Adam wobbles on his legs as he pushes himself up, feeling the sticky counter and grimacing as he turns the sink on and ratchets up the hot water. Letting it heat, he bends down with a groan and slides his hand under the sink, feeling and thumping his hand around for the cleaner. He grabs it and sprays the foam all over the counter, more than is necessary really, and gets to work. When Kenny gets out of the shower, he’s got some words for him.

The water in the bathroom cuts off, and a loud but muffled yawn sounds, before some muffled words from Kenny. The man emerges in a cloud of steam, wrapped in a towel and looking almost angelic.

_Too_ angelic.

“You could have stuck around long enough to help me out here.” Adam grumbles, knowing he’s gotta be a bit antagonistic with this version of his neighbor in order to get the desired effect. 

“What? Oh my god, I…” Kenny surveys Adam cleaning with wide, blue eyes. “Fuck, I… I’m so sorry, oh my god--” He runs with the towel on to Adam, and starts furiously grabbing paper towels off the roll before wiping. “I just… I needed to get clean, and I wasn’t thinking about anything else. I. I wasn’t thinking. Here, let me--”

“Hang on.” Adam stops him. “Kenny?” He asks, like he’s trying to confirm that’s who he’s seeing. He puts a hand on his shoulder. “Like… is it 100 percent you?”

“I--what?” Kenny looks up at him, like he’s woken up from a daze. “What do you mean, am I 100 percent me?”

“Kenny. Do you remember what happened?”

“Kinda, we… there was a werewolf, and, and we came home, and then…” He blushes as he looks down at the counter.

“And nothing else? None of our conversations?” His hand lingers on Kenny’s shoulder, expression softening.

“I--” Kenny thinks hard. “It’s all… kind of a blur. I’m sorry. Something about how… I’m the spirit of vengeance now. Right?”

Adam’s back still hurts and he’s unsure about the exact circumstances of Kenny coming back to himself, but he can’t help himself. He wraps Kenny in a tight hug. “I thought I broke you.” 

Kenny is stiff for a second in Adam’s arms like he’s surprised. “What? Why?”

“Gods… you really don’t remember, do you?” He pulls back and looks into Kenny’s clear blue eyes. He thinks for a second about sugar-coating it. About not telling him anything. Then his conscience gets the better of him. “We should… talk.”

\--

“Wow.” Kenny’s eyes are wide again, and his face is almost comical in his disbelief as he shakes it and holds his cheek. “I… wow. I’d think you were kidding, except you clearly aren’t.”

They’re settled into the couch now, with Adam tucked close to him. He’s pulled a shirt on now and Kenny has done the same. “It was… uh, something. Not bad, but definitely different.” He can’t even really describe it. Vengeance is…a force of nature more than anything else. How do you describe something that overwhelms and subsumes you? 

So Adam tries something else. “You feeling okay?” 

“Better now, with the uh, Gatorade.”

“I think maybe next time it will be better. Just… I can’t help but think this is my fault somehow.” Adam knows it’s irrational, but he’s got very little explanation for it. “And I guess you remember… the uh… marathon we had.”

“Yeah.” Kenny laughs nervously. “I guess we know why I, uh, was calling you Hangman, huh.”

A laugh bubbles up in Adam’s throat. He just has to laugh. “I’d prefer that to the other, honestly. Rather be a big dick cowboy than one that kills people.” He doesn’t really have the luxury of being one without the other though. “Good joke.”

The other man looks down at the hands in his lap bashfully. “I try.” After a moment of what appears to be introspection, he looks up at Adam. “So. What do we do now?”

Adam takes a deep breath and just tells Kenny the truth. “I have no idea. I just… had a 24 hour sex marathon with you, my back hurts, I need a nap…” He scrubs at his face. “And I’m still not sure what’s living inside you or how to explain it.” He doesn’t mention the fact that during that whole time Adam didn’t really feel like himself either. He felt like--him but not. Something else clawing its way from up inside him to push him into a frankly scary place. It’s too weird to try and explain to Kenny, even though he’s probably feeling the same way. “Do you think you can just… turn it on and off?” 

“I don’t know how to do that when I’m not even really sure what it _is_ in the first place. I mean, I know the words, but… I only have vague details. Impressions. Like I was all id, driven by this…” Kenny gestures between them. “Whatever this _bond_ is. No matter how much you or I tried to pull away, it felt… inevitable, in a way. Not good, not bad, just… inevitable.”

Adam felt the same way. Like no matter what, no matter what he did, or how much space he put between them. They would find their way back to each other. Like the world would feel _off_ until… well, until they were united. Literally and figuratively. “Well. That’s more information than I had before. You kept talking about destiny. Makes sense that it would feel like the world was pushing us together.”

“Did I? Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Destiny.” Kenny thinks for a second. “I mean, I never felt like this when… I dated people before. I mean, just because you said it had been a while for, for _you_. Not because I’m assuming… you know.”

Dated...Adam hadn’t thought about it like that before. Were they dating? Are they dating?  
  
“Oh… no you didn’t, aw fuck.” Adam runs his hand through his hair. “No, I’ve been with other people before you. Just… wait, you aren’t dating anyone now, are you? Fuck I didn’t. like…” Horror washes over Adam at just the thought. 

“No, no. Not now. I, uh. Six months ago, my boyfriend just... went missing. So, no, I’m, haha. You’re good.” Kenny gives Adam a small smile, but there’s sadness tugging at the corners of his eyes.

“Oh.” Adam straightens up a little bit. “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.” He’s a bit lost now, not knowing what to say. There was no way he would have known, but that somehow feels worse. “That why you moved here? To just… get away?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Listen, you’re… you seem like a really great guy. And I don’t want that to be some kind of specter hanging over me. But… I don’t really know… There’s no playbook for this, right? It’s like, I’m kind of a private guy, and then, when that _spirit_ takes over, it’s just like I can’t hold back.” He leans his head back into the couch. “It’s like I’m a yo-yo or something.”

“This is on your terms. It’s gotta be. A lot of the time I feel like I am just along for the ride in almost every aspect of my life, especially this.” Adam feels like he’s finally getting something he’s been keeping a secret off his chest. “I don’t wanna push you. I don’t wanna make you do something you’re not ready to do. Fuck destiny. This should be your choice.”

“I like you. I mean, on an aesthetic level at least. I haven’t really had the chance to talk to you, but. I’d like to.” His lips twist up. “And I do remember saying something about how what you said--it isn’t really living.” He pokes Adam in the chest with an index finger.

“I just wanna know that...you’re okay with everything that happened. That I’m not like doing all this stuff with someone else and you hardly remember any of it. I don’t think I could live with that.” 

“So, are you asking if I would’ve had a sex marathon with you if I wasn’t possessed by fucking Ghost Rider? Yes. Well, uh. Maybe not a sex _marathon_. But definitely a one night stand at least…” It’s a little coy.

Adam lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Thank _fuck.”_ He collapses back into the pillows on the couch, slight smile tugging on his lips as he just lets everything sink in. 

“Maybe I’d even have done it sooner if you weren’t so _gosh dang_ avoiding me!”

“Well can you fuckin’ blame me? After what happened? I was trying to like--not be responsible if something weird happened to you. And it happened anyway. So.” He’s talking with his eyes shut, just trying to relax after everything. “Turned down good sex for nothing.” 

“Or a chance at it, anyway. So really, when you think about it… maybe our weird alter egos just wanted us to make up for lost time?” He leans in and kisses Adam on the cheek. “It’s okay. But. It’s cute that you wanted to make sure. Thank you.”

Adam laughs. “I mean, I don’t think that I have anything extra going on in here.” He points to his head, still leaned back against the pillows. “But either way, I needed to just get that off my chest. I still think destiny can fuck off though.”

“You don’t? You saying the ability to sense deaths is just… a lucky talent?”

“I don’t think about it like a talent, but I’ve never had an out of body experience. I just. It just happens.”

Kenny’s eyes roll a bit.“There had to have been something that triggered it. You can’t tell me you’ve just been Death forever.”

“I wasn’t.” Adam’s smile drops a little. If Kenny admitted something to him, he feels a push inside his mind that tells him he should at least do the same. A secret for a secret. “I saved a friend’s life. He was practicing magic. I—had an accident. Said friend tried to summon Death to stop me from dying. I got cursed. I meant it when I said you don’t just ask for something and get it. There is a price.”

Kenny is quiet for a moment, and his voice is soft when next he speaks. “Do you really think… Nick and Matt cursed me when they begged you to bring me back to life? I think they think this is all their fault…”

“No.” Adam is quick to tell him. He doesn’t know the pair of demons, hell, he doesn’t even know if he would like them if he did know them. But he knows he didn’t do any magic in those moments. He grabs Kenny’s soul to push it back into his body. Whatever had happened, had happened before he got there. “Already done before I got there. You’re probably gonna figure this out before too long, but this place is fucked up.”

“Wait… Matt and Nick--shit, I should text them, the last time--fuck! Phone, phone, where’s my phone--” Kenny casts around anxiously, before realizing he hasn’t seen it since he woke up.

“I have no idea what the hell you did with it.” Adam gives him a look that he hopes conveys at least a little sympathy even though he’s still nursing a bad back and he feels a bit like he’s bared his soul to someone he barely knows. “But I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.” As long as Kenny didn’t incinerate it.

The other man looks to the door, where his jacket is laying discarded on the floor. “Oh. Of course.” He gets up to get it. “We should also… probably exchange phone numbers this time?”

“Yeah. I do think you know where to find me, considering you’ve spent more time here than you have in your own house over the last few days. Don’t think I’m getting away that easy.” Adam sprawls across the couch as soon as Kenny gets up. “The floor did a number on my fucking back.” 

“Well, I’m… sorry you ended up there. But, you proved pretty good at avoiding me last time, so, I wanted to fix that. Or at least help. I dunno.” A beat. “Speaking of helping… I could try to help your back a bit… if you _wanted_ …”

Adam moves onto his stomach on the couch. “You know how I know I’m cursed?” He starts, ignoring Kenny’s question for the moment. “It’s because I still get hangovers and still have back pain. I think the son of a bitch did it on purpose.” He looks over at Kenny. “So if you wanna try and help, I certainly am not gonna say no.”

“Well,” Kenny says, phone in hand. “Give me your number and I’ll crack your back and try to rub the tension out. How’s that sound?”

“Phones in my pants pocket.” Adam grumbles. “Just call your phone with mine.” The thought of someone soothing his back pain is too tempting just to let go.

“Oh, duh. Okay.” Kenny reaches in, and definitely grabs Adam’s butt as he slides the phone out of the ass pocket.

Adam laughs, feeling a bit lighter now that he’s gotten some of his concerns off his chest, and he’s sure Vengeance has retreated back inside. He’s been better at processing all of this, or at least better than he’d thought he’d be--but that doesn’t mean his nerves still aren’t shot from the night before. Not to mention his body being totally out of commission. Speaking of which…

Kenny pulls his shirt up gently and almost hesitantly, making Adam’s back tickle as Kenny’s hands hover and then press into his lower back muscles tenderly.

“Sorry, this is--it’s a little weird, for a couple reasons. Still trying to get used to this, uh, remade body. I know that probably sounds weird.”

“You can talk to me about it, if you want.” Adam tells him, face pressed down into the couch cushions. He figures they should start here. Actually getting to know one another instead of… well, instead of everything else. 

“I dunno. I mean, it’s kind of hard to talk about, but… I spent so long. It’s so much effort to become who you see inside, when you’re… you know.” He’s still hesitant. Still shy. The more time Adam spends with him, the more he realizes that’s just how Kenny--this Kenny--is.

It makes everything else almost click into place. Given a chance to be yourself for almost the first time? It would be impossible not to just embrace it. “You know,” Adam sighs as the pressure on his back lets up a little. “I’ve been thinking about this the wrong way, I think.” Maybe it’s less magic and more unlocked potential. “And I don’t wanna be the guy who’s trying to fill in the blanks in your life that I don’t even know about but… seems like maybe all you’ve been doing is coping too.” The empty house, the overprotective friends… Vengeance just _unlocked_ something. No possession needed. 

“I used to dream, y’know, about just being able to… snap my fingers and just have the body I wanted.” Kenny laughs softly as he presses fists along the length of Adam’s back muscles. “And then I told myself, ‘Kenny, you have to face facts, that just ain’t gonna _happen_.’ And then… after I’d just faced reality, gotten to maybe ninety percent and accepted it? It did happen...”

“Seems cliche to say, and maybe I’m not the one that should be sayin’ it, but take it as a gift. Don’t wallow in it like I do. That’ll probably only make things worse.” Adam didn’t want for much before this; he’d been directionless. Now he’s not sure he likes the directions he’d headed in, but at least it's a direction. 

“Yeah. I guess that’s true. I just… need a direction,” Kenny says, weirdly echoing Adam’s unspoken thought. “And. Maybe we can help each other find one?” He slaps both hands down on Adam’s back.

“Yeah. For real this time.” Adam turns his head. “Just gotta take it one step at a time.” 

“How’s your back feel now?” The other man rests his hands on Adam, warming him to the core.

“Better.” Adam feels the warmth blossom in his stomach and then his chest. “It’s better.” He could use a nap. On a real bed. But he doesn’t want to move. 

“I’ll take better.” Kenny lays down on top of Adam. “Full-body massage time.”

He can’t remember the last time he was spoiled like this. “You don’t have to.”

“Mmm too late. Feels good,” Kenny says right into his ear.

Adam feels a shiver go right up his spine, Kenny’s body is warm and heavy on top of him, and his lips a breath away from his ear. He almost chokes on his next words. “F-fine.” He exhales and he swears his vision blurs red for a moment before readjusting.

Kenny pulls back a bit. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah. Just fine. Just like that.” 

—

“Well, would you look at that,” Trent sighs, watching the TV. If this stupid thing is going to give them visions into other peoples’ lives, at least this time it’s a nice one. Something in the tender tone of it makes his heart ache, but it’s not a feeling he exactly wants to examine right now. Trent doesn’t go in for any of that inner self shit… “Chuck! The Hangman and Kenny just had this really nice moment and you missed it!”

“Aw fuck man. Did they finally talk it out? I know you don’t like horror shit, but that stuff earlier was compelling.” Chuck walks back into the room, arms filled with a plethora of different energy drinks cradled in his arms.

“Yeah, they did, with a massage and everything. ...Wait, what did you see earlier?”

“Oh you didn’t see the heated conversation in Hangman’s truck? Kenny is like Ghost Rider or some shit, but like better. Not the Nic Cage one either.” Chuck sits down next to him and places the goods on the coffee table. “I got us some stuff from the non-cursed Quiktrip.”

“I still can’t believe the cursed one had moldy Twinkies. I thought those things were, like, nuclear-proof. Thanks, bro,” Trent says, taking a bag of Combos from the pile.

“Not in the face of hell on earth I guess.” Chuck suggests, and reaches for the monster he bought. “But honestly, good for them.” He motions the can at the TV which is in the process of staticing out again.

“Yeah. Good for them,” Trent trails off awkwardly. “Hey, Chuckie--”

_“What do you mean the hospital doesn’t have any spare blood??”_ Trent almost gets whiplash from the loud bleach-blond man on the TV.

“Man this is soap opera city up in here.” Chuck laughs as he downs his drink. “Who’s this asshole?”

_“Cody, calm down, please.”_ A taller, lean man with similarly blond hair, buzzed short, puts a hand on ‘Cody’s’ shoulder.

_“We stay under the radar because we have things set up to work out the way we need them to. To break even for us. If that fails, if there is even a microscopic_ dent _in the armor, then the whole thing could collapse around us.”_ Trent registers his expression halfway between angry and frantic.

Out of nowhere, Orange places a gigantic bowl of popcorn between the two of them, before crawling over the back of the couch to sit beside Trent and curl up under his left arm like a cat. Trent barely even thinks before grabbing a handful with his right hand and stuffing it into his mouth, enraptured.

_“I know you’re worried about Brandi. What she could do if she gets hungry. But, Cody. We have to be rational about this. Think about… what Dusty would do.”_

_“Dusty isn’t_ with _us any more, Dustin! It’s up to me now, and as much as I’d like to make_ others _believe otherwise… I’m not my father. I’m not… universally good with mortals like he was. He was just. Charisma incarnate.”_

“Is this like True Blood?” Chuck asks, taking his own handful of popcorn. 

_“And what of it? Sure. You might not be Dusty. But it sure as hell doesn’t mean you can’t follow his example. There are other Vamps in the city, outside it too. We’re not blood but they gotta be able to help. Build bridges, little brother._ Be _the emperor.”_ The taller vampire takes the shorter one by both shoulders, towering over him.

“Damn. Maybe True Blood if it was also The Sopranos. This is _intense_ ,” Trent answers, before absent-mindedly stroking Orange’s hair. “Dude, your hair is so soft. Did you try some new shampoo or somethin?”

“Used Chuck’s.” Orange replies. 

_“I got an idea. But you’re gonna have to back me on this.”_ The shorter man, Cody, replies as he looks up. _“Can I count on you?”_

“You’re using my shampoo?” Chuck asks.

“It’s nice,” Trent says softly, mostly to himself. It really is.

_“I trust you, Cody. But you’re gonna have to let. Me. In.”_

_“You know Adam Page. You know what he does. We can strike up a deal.”_

“If this dude is about to fuck with Hangman, I’ll find him and kick his ass myself.” Chuck turns his attention back to the TV.

_“Yeah, okay… I think I get what you’re putting down. And that’s not a terrible idea, Codes. Better than taking blood from the living, anyway.”_

_“We’ll have a meeting. In the meantime, I’ll do what I can to keep Brandi below the radar.”_

“Are we about to witness a murder?” Chuck finally asks as he takes another thoughtful sip of his Monster.

“God, I hope not… I hate calling 911.”

\--

“Everything’s _fine_ , AC, we told you,” Nick says. “Dude, you gotta try these cheesesteak eggrolls, though. You’ll love ‘em. I didn’t think Friday’s could do a cheesesteak, but man.”

“I’m _so_ not convinced that they can.” Adam Cole laughs and leans forward to take a sip of his Coke. Matt knows that Adam isn’t exactly the chain restaurant type, but he also knows that the man will humor them with just about anything. It’s part of why they’ve been friends for so long; the other part is… well, that one has gotten a bit fuzzier over the last couple of days.  
  
“Kenny is just… he’s having a hard time adjusting. Sometimes he can freak out. Didn’t help we were kind of part of the problem, but we’re gonna take him some food after this. Check up on him.” Matt doesn’t want to admit it but having Kenny both know that they are demons, and Kenny being changed in turn, has done wonders for Matt’s anxiety.

“So, what exactly happened with him, anyway? He said something in that group chat about a sixth sense? Isn’t that… I dunno, kind of weird?” Adam’s question is pretty innocent. After all, he still doesn’t know about the brothers themselves, and he’s always been kind of… doubtful about the existence of any kind of power, higher or not.  
  
“Just shaken up after a car accident. Sometimes people do weird stuff after they’ve had a traumatic event happen.” Matt slides his own drink over to take a sip.  
  
“Shouldn’t have left him on his own even after he got all pissed off.” Nick follows up. 

“Yeah, yeah, I _know_ ,” Matt says, shaking his head. Nick’s already convinced him… he doesn’t have to dig the knife even deeper.

“No, your brother’s right, Matt.” Adam articulates his point with a forkful of eggroll in Matt’s direction. “You gotta take this seriously. I still think you’ve gotten yourselves in a bad position.” Adam puts his food in his mouth, before quickly swallowing it and dumping the rest of the eggroll unceremoniously back on the platter. “If you’re gonna play the role of caretaker, then you need to be there for him. Otherwise, you call the professionals.”

“Professional what? It’s not like Kenny can’t take care of himself, he just has trouble adjusting sometimes. Florida isn’t Canada and…” He shouldn’t say the rest of that sentence. Adam already knows more about Kenny than Kenny would like in the first place. Matt is trying desperately to respect his privacy even if _he_ hardly feels shame anymore.

“Oh, he’s Canadian? Could be like a Seasonal Affective thing,” Adam says, smiling reassuringly. “Professional _therapists_ , boys. Which you all are not. So, anyways--” Adam’s phone rings, Matt cringes at the thought that someone still has their phone sound on. “Hold on, wait, I gotta take this.” Adam gets up from the table quickly and scoots in his chair. “Hey, Britt, hey--you okay? You sound--yeah, I’m out with the Jacksons. No, it’s just us--I’ll be right back, guys. Yeah, I’m listening...”

“Adam’s weirding me out, man.” Matt sits back in his chair. “How many times has she called him in the past two days?”

“Honestly, I’ve lost track. Doesn’t she seem a little… I dunno, needy?”

“Trying to give us advice about Kenny too. Like, he’s not… you don’t think we really need to worry about him like _that,_ do you?” 

“I mean, I don’t know. He’s not any different from when he came out of his shell, is he? Just… maybe a little bit more confident, but, I don’t know, that’s attractive in a man, right?” Nick looks conflicted, uncertain. “I mean he finally got a girlfriend too…”

“I mean yeah he’s attractive. I mean he’s _really_ attractive now, so I’m glad he’s got someone but he doesn’t need to like…” Matt makes a sweeping gesture with his hands. “Wield it against us or whatever.”

“He looks like he’s been following our workout steps, at least. Letting himself eat some carbs so he’s built but not… totally cut, you know? He looks _healthy_.”

“Dude it was so bad before. I tried to tell him he looked good, so I’m glad he at least listened.” Matt sighs out, grabbing an egg roll from the plate in the middle of the table. “He totally hates his place though.”

“Oh, totally. But I’m glad he came with us, at least. It’s kinda like old times, you know? Been a long time since we’ve hung out with him...”

As hard as Matt tries, he can’t stay frustrated with Adam. When he sees Adam heading back to the table he straightens back up and finishes his egg roll before taking a drink from his straw. He’s always been paranoid about people knowing he’s been talking about them. It’s no different now than it was in the past.

“Hey, guys,” Adam Cole says, fishing a crisp Benjamin out of his wallet, “I really hate to cut and run, but I have a contractor I gotta meet with. Really important for Britt’s resort project, you know. Miami real estate, all that.”

“I thought she was a dentist?” Nick asks casually.

“Yeah, she is, but you know. Dentistry, it’s so... client-dependent. Takes a lot of work to get a practice up and running… real estate is a _solid_ _investment_. It’s gonna be our future. So this is _really, really_ important.” He puts a hand on both their shoulders, across the table, and squeezes with strong, reassuring hands. “Seriously, I’ll make it up to you. _Promise_.”

Matt blinks once and then shakes his head, feeling a bit off for a second. He can’t even be mad. Not if it’s important… 

“Yeah, dude. Go take care of what you need to take care of. We can do this some other time.” Matt finds himself saying, lost looking into those blue eyes, before he comes back to himself and glances down at the $100 dollar bill on the table. “Just don’t be a stranger.”

“Never.” Adam Cole’s smile is blinding. “Love you guys. We’ll find another time to catch up.” Matt watches him head out, but not before he collects another man from the bar and leaves with him.


	5. Id

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honest conversations are had, the hellmouth continues to churn, and Death finds his match.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all the wonderful comments and kudos!! Hope you all are doing well, kudos to Kenny on becoming AEW champ :D
> 
> **CW for mouth holes and potential trypophobia at the end of the chapter** (when Adam and Kenny go to the beach).
> 
> In case you all didn't see, we got commissions of Adam/Death and Kenny/Vengeance... and uh, Kenny posted the latter on his insta. Whoops. That became a whole thing.
> 
> [Death](https://twitter.com/geneticghost/status/1332403872359456768)  
> [Vengeance](https://twitter.com/quantumdotdot/status/1332517927556427777)  
> [Kenny posting about being Vengeance on insta](https://www.instagram.com/p/CIRi-BoJ7hZ/)  
> (which caused quantum to corpse from incredulous laughter and lay down on the floor, and ecto to break into (shoot) hives at the thought of mentioning Vengeance on a Dynamite segment)

**Miami Vices  
Chapter 5: Id **

“Did you know you can get like, weird mutant hot dogs with like, pineapple and shit on them down here?” Chuck adjusts his sunglasses against the harsh rays of the sun. It was maybe a bad day to go to the beach, too hot, too humid, and way too much sun but since that’s basically every day down here…there wasn’t much to choose from. 

Plus. Chuck feels like if he doesn’t get away from the TV he might just start watching people's lives like they were actually TV shows. He’s not a pervert like that.

“Okay, but are they any good?” Orange asks, sunglasses barely visible over his giant glass, as he grabs the straw from his freshly-squeezed mimosa.

“I don’t know! I was just lookin’ stuff up. Figured if we were around we could get some sometime. Like maybe not that one exactly but something like it. Then you wanted to take me to...” Chuck picks up the menu that’s still on their table. “I don’t know, I can’t read French.”

“Yeah, croquette, more like a croque of shit, right?” Trent smirks at him.

Chuck laughs louder than he anticipated and a woman seated a table away gives him a stern look. “Annnyway. Orange, just order us what’s good, since this was your idea.”

Orange peels down his sunglasses to give them what appears to be a Look, before pushing them up with a single finger and smiling. “You got it. Chicken and waffles. Surf and turf benedict. Cornflake french toast. Counter-clockwise,” he says, right as the waitress comes up, and she fumbles a little.

“Sorry, hold on, I’ve gotta get my pen… There we go. Okay, I got a chicken and waffles, a surf and turf for the tall guy, and a french toast for you. That everything?” Orange nods. “And—anybody need more coffee?”

“ _ I’ve never had a Benedict before, Orange _ ,” Trent stage-whispers after the waitress has turned around.

“Don’t worry. You’ll love it,” Orange says confidently before leaning back and sipping more of his mimosa.

“Nah, we’re good.” Chuck tells her, picking up his own coffee cup and tipping it towards her. She gives him a smile and goes on her way. “Chicken and waffles sounds like it’s good as hell. This place seems too rich for my blood, but a beach day is a beach day.” And maybe they deserve to considering everything. Although, Chuck’s idea is splurging is a 6 dollar pizza and a case of beer.

“Hard to find a brunch spot on the beach,” Orange says. “But you wanted one.”

“I got it, I got it.” Chuck rolls his eyes affectionately. “Just thought it would be good to get away from the apartment. We live on the beach so we should go to the fucking beach.” That’s a lie. Technically they  _ don’t _ live on the beach, but he’s never had time for specifics.

“Most of the oceanfront is built on limestone in order to provide waterfront real estate for an ever-growing list of investors, realtors, and landlords. This is not sustainable in the long term, as if the ocean raises just two feet, ten percent of available land mass will be lost.” Orange’s tone is flat and dry, as if he’d just remarked on the weather report they listened to on the car ride over.

“Miami is hell. Got it.” Chuck gives Trent a look and the bigger man shrugs. “Not that we didn’t already know that, but now I’m putting ‘need to get out before floods happen’ to my to do list.” 

“There’s also a hellmouth which is slowly corrupting all mortal, sentient life within a forty-mile radius. But it’s worse closer to the epicenter.” More sipping, this time noisy and raucous as Orange gets to the bottom of his mimosa. “Damn. It isn’t bottomless.”

Chuck almost chokes on his mouthful of coffee. “Excuse me what now?” He coughs, swallowing hard. He’s pretty sure he heard right, but he sticks his pinky in one ear like he’s trying to clean it out before asking again. “Try me again?”

Trent takes a deep breath. “I think what he was trying to say was—”

“Sir, I’m  _ so _ sorry,” the waitress says, running up to them, specifically Orange. “But we’re all out of the french toast—”

“It’s okay,” he says quickly. “I knew that was gonna happen, but I was hoping I was wrong. I’ll just take the dulce de leche waffle instead.”

She nods, even though she’s a little confused, before scurrying away.

“ _ Dammit _ , _ ”  _ Orange mutters.

“Okay dude, can we get back to the  _ Hellmouth infecting the city _ now?” Chuck says after they are all silent for a moment.

“Wait.” Orange pulls his sunglasses down again. “You didn’t know?”

“What do you mean? Dude! I just figured this place was cursed. I don’t even wanna really know how  _ you _ know all this. Did you know anything about this?” He turns to Trent, coffee cup still in his hand. “Tell me I’m not the only one out of the loop.” 

Trent looks dumbfounded. “Dude, I had no idea! I mean, things are a little weird here, but I didn’t think they were—wait, what’s a hellmouth anyway? I mean, sounds  _ bad _ , but…”

“Wait…” Something dawns on Chuck in that moment, dread sinking into his stomach. “We’re not like… infected, right? This isn’t like Raccoon City or something right? Orange?” 

“No,” the slimmer man answers in his usual clipped tones. “You’re fine. We’re fine.”

He almost melts in his chair when the relief washes over him. “So… all those people we’re seeing. They used to be human?”

“Dude! That’s insensitive!” Trent shouts. “Wait, that’s insensitive, right? Like, just because someone’s  _ different _ doesn’t mean they’re not human any more?”

“That’s not what I meant! I just… this is kinda fucked up, right? We have to tell people what’s going on, right!?” Chuck slides his cup back on the table. “Like if we know and we don’t tell anyone it happening we’re just as bad.” He’s got no idea who to tell or if they would believe them, but he just had to say it.

A dark, sad look crosses Trent’s face. “We… we can’t.”

“What do you mean we can’t? Why does everyone know more about this shit than I do?” Chuck looks at Trent, really looks at him and then it finally washes over him too. It was scribbled in the margin of that stupid pamphlet they found when they got here.  _ “Cursed with knowledge.” _

“Yeah. Sucks, dude.” Trent sighs loudly, right as their food comes. “Well, food’s here at least.”

“Yeah…” Chuck isn’t sure he has an appetite anymore. 

—

On the other side of Matheson Hammock Park, past the happy, dull rumble of beach-goers and the soft rustling of the Miami breeze through palm trees, Adam Cole stands on a shoreline of coral rock and looks out into the Atlantic.

His skin (and his soul)  _ itch _ .

“Well,” he says to himself, as he shields his eyes from the glare off the water with his arm, “Work’s done, at least. Maybe now, I can finally relax…”

—

“Uh… do you have a lot of these retro games?”

“Yeah… I mean, probably most of my games are retro… I don’t know. It’s just what I grew up with, you know? And then some of them I have doubles because…” He hands Adam a well-loved red box and waits for his reaction.

“This has gotta be… is this an original? I don’t know much about this stuff, but this is impressive.” Adam takes the box gingerly, like something might just dissolve in his hands if he handles it too roughly.

“It’s from 1994, if that’s what you mean.” Kenny can’t help but smile softly as he watches Adam look over it. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff like that, from when I lived in Japan.”

“You lived in Japan?” Adam looks up at him, expression soft and inquisitive, like he’s surprised or that he didn’t expect it. “I mean not that we’ve had a lot of time to talk about this stuff.” 

“Yeah, for a bit. I got an internship right out of college, then I started my own studio with some friends, and the game we made hit it kind of big over there, so...”

“Wait… wait, wait. You  _ made a game.  _ Like I can go buy it if I wanted to? Dude… that’s really awesome.”

“Nah, I mean, it wasn’t just me, and I was really more of a, I dunno,  _ creative director _ than anything…”

“Still. That’s more than I ever did or probably will do now that I have this,” Adam wrinkles his nose in an expression Kenny is getting familiar with. “Job.” He's still holding the box gingerly in his hands. “Well I guess there was that time I taught a graphic design class.”

“You were a teacher?” Kenny’s eyes light up bright, clearly wanting Adam to tell him more.

“Yeah. Just at a high school back in Virginia. Did that for a few years while I tried to sort some stuff out.” Adam slides the box Kenny handed him onto the coffee table. “Word from the wise. Don’t ever teach high schoolers when you’re only like 7 years older than them.” 

“Oof, yeah. Sounds… rough. I think maybe… I’d like to teach sometime? I’ve tutored, but. It’s not really the same.”

Adam laughs a little, a quiet thing. He’s not laughing at him, Kenny can tell, he’s just letting a smile leak out. “I’d say I’m sure you can get into it, but becoming something like we are maybe puts a damper on some of that.”

“Yeah. Well. Maybe I can teach you something?” Kenny is hopeful. Maybe this can be something normal for them…

“Oh yeah?” Adam raises an eyebrow. “What do you want to teach me?”

“Well, I saw you had a Switch in your apartment, but it looked a little dusty.” Kenny takes a huge risk, his heart fluttering like a bird, as he wraps his hands around Adam’s. “Have you ever played  _ Street Fighter _ ?”

Adam stiffins for a moment, before he relaxes. “A few times maybe. Must have been 5 or more years ago or something. You any good?”

“Um, a little bit. I have some friends in the competitive scene. I’ll have you doing combos in no time.”

“A little bit? That makes it sound like you 100 percent know what you’re doing. I didn’t even know people played video games for money until like a year ago.”a

Kenny has to laugh at that—not rudely, just out of sheer joy at how different they are. “We’re from different sides of the gaming tracks, but… here. Lemme boot up my PS4.” He gives Adam’s hands a squeeze before dropping them and getting up.

Maybe they are different, but Kenny’s never met anyone who didn’t at least like fighting games even just a little bit. He’s certain that Adam won’t be any different and considering how willing he is to just listen at this point. It could be something they both need.

“Okay, sooooo… a  _ huge  _ thing in fighting games is blocking. A lot of new people just attack, attack, attack, and don’t block. The other thing you want to learn is movement.” He hands Adam a controller before loading up the training mode. “It matters which order you press the buttons in. Think of it liiiike… a clock hand turning. You can do a quarter, half, and full circle either clockwise, or anti-clockwise. With me so far?”

Adam stares at the controller like it’s the first time he’s ever seen anything like it. “Okay. So it’s about memorizing patterns? Is that right? If I know what I want to do, I just have to remember how to do it.” Adam runs his thumb over the circle of buttons.

“Yeah, exactly. Try it out. Just…  _ ease _ into it. Find a… a rhythm.” Kenny smiles at Adam, trying to be encouraging, to radiate positive energy at him. Make him feel relaxed.

“Well as long as you don’t mind me sucking or whatever.” Adam smiles back at him and gives a bit of a self-deprecating laugh, which just makes Kenny want to encourage him more. Adam straightens up on the couch and takes a deep breath, looking like he’s getting ready for a real fight.

“Okay, now try to block me by hitting back when I attack—” Kenny’s vision flashes red, as he sees a body washed up on a beach. Being drained. A brief moment of pure bliss. Backwards in time, and he’s drowning in himself…

—

“Well, looks like we have a job to do,” Kenny says abruptly, his distant dreamy expression snapping into a smirk, as trails of purple smoke pool from his nostrils. “Chop, chop, Hangman.”

Adam shivers hard. It’s unmistakable. “Fuck…”

“Well, I suppose we can make time—” Kenny leans in, tongue sliding out of his mouth to lick up the blood from under Adam’s nose before sliding it into his parted lips. “Mmm.”

“Mmmm.” Adam drops the controller in his hand and he’s pressing his fingers into Kenny’s shoulders, tasting blood and then something sweeter before he pushes back against it. “Jesus Christ… give a guy a second to figure out what the hell is going on.”

Kenny makes a disappointed whine as Adam pulls back. “Ohhhho, you fucking tease.” His lips are slick and slightly red from the roughness of the kiss. “That body isn’t going anywhere—” He kisses the corners of Adam’s lips and crawls forward until he’s in Adam’s lap.

“It doesn’t—“ Adam is breathless against Kenny’s lips for a moment again. “It doesn’t matter if it’s going anywhere or not. People can’t find the body. Too many people and then my job is already harder than it is.” The death sign, as mild as it was, must have woken Vengeance back up. It’s the only explanation Adam can come up with.

Vengeance-Kenny whines again, pressing closer and desperately trying to capture the edges of Adam’s lips. He’s so warm like this—somehow always warmer as Vengeance than as himself.

“Later.” He doesn’t even know what he’s promising? Later what? What does that even mean? He doesn’t know and Adam guesses he will figure something out by then. His nose is still wet with blood and the other man is simply looming over him, sitting fully in Adam’s lap, stroking his face. “Besides… you’ve got a job to do. Isn’t that important?”

“Why do you always have to be the… voice of reason? Doesn’t that get annoying? Wouldn’t it feel good to just… let go, even for a second? That’s what Vengeance is all about, Hangman. I’m more than just the righteous anger Kenny keeps bottled deep inside so far down. I’m also taking what you want from the world, and damn the consequences. And you’ve been  _ soooo  _ good, haven’t you?” The voice is like honey in his ear as that tongue—Adam can swear it’s longer than before—laps at his still-bleeding nose.

Adam still manages to hold Kenny off, even if his resolve is crumbling. “First of all. Stop trying to tongue fuck my nose.” His voice is a little gruffer. “And second, of course I get tired, I’m sure everyone does. But if I did whatever I wanted I’d either be face down in a ditch with a bottle of whiskey  _ or _ I’d be you, wouldn’t I?” At the moment, Adam isn’t sure which is worse.

“Well, of course. You keep asking if I’m really Kenny, but you don’t want to believe the truth that’s staring you in the face, so I’m just going to be blunt. Kenny is me. Okay?” He pulls back to look Adam in the eye. “I am Kenny’s id—you understand?—I am  _ everything _ he keeps buckled down because he’s shy. Because he’s  _ nice _ . Because he’s been taught his  _ whole life _ that men take up space, that they’re loud, they’re demanding, that they are  _ bad _ . That he is  _ bad _ . For being a man and not only  _ liking it _ , but liking  _ men _ . And I’m finally free. So, maybe you’d be face down in a ditch. I don’t really work in hypotheticals. I do know, Hangman, that you can’t  _ possibly _ understand what it is to be… Kenny Omega. But if you’re going to keep harboring that crush? Well, you’re sure as hell gonna to have to be okay with  _ me _ .”

Adam suddenly doesn’t have words. There is a sinking feeling in his chest that he knows is guilt, but it somehow feels  _ worse.  _ “I’m sorry.” It’s instinctual to say, but he doesn’t even really know exactly what he’s sorry for. How many things can he count? He’d never even considered half of what was just said because he’d been too wrapped up in the supernatural nature of it all. Untapped potential… he’d thought about it before, but it was just a fleeting thought before he’d drowned in the feelings between the two of them. “This… isn’t about you.” He’s not mad at Kenny or Vengeance. He’s just mad at himself. So perpetually exhausted by his inability to move forward. “It’s me.” Adam wipes his nose quickly and moves to get off the couch.

“First time I’ve ever heard that… guess it’s not just something they say in movies,” Kenny says under his breath with a shrug before getting up as well. “Shall we… be off, then?”

“Yeah.” Adam takes a breath. 

_ You’re an asshole, you know that?  _

He winces at his inner voice. It’s right. “Let me get my shoes on.” 

— 

“Oh, good,” Kenny says when they arrive in a bustling parking lot, with the late afternoon sun bright golden in the sky, his tone implying anything but. “Beachgoers.”

Adam had the compulsion to tell him if they’d gotten here sooner they wouldn’t have had to deal with so many people, but he keeps his mouth shut. The guilt from earlier still festering inside of him. “It’s not the best scenario.” He uses his hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he looks off into the water. “But, I do know something other than how to be a piece of shit.” Adam takes Kenny’s arm and he feels a chill run through both of them, like they’ve stepped into an air conditioned building. “No one can see us now.”

“Perfect. I’ll let you do the honors, of course… After you.”

Honor. What honor is in this exactly? 

“I will get the body and take it someplace more secluded. Gimme some details.” Adam asks as he strides ahead of Kenny, past a throng of teenagers headed down to the water.

Kenny’s quiet for a second, and his eyes flash red as he recalls the death sign. “It’s on a rocky part of the beach… not near any people. Maybe it’s closer to the parking lot than the actual beach itself… or a boat launch.”

Adam has never been able to recall them, he’s always felt trapped in a nightmare that feels like it never happened. “There is an outcropping of rocks by a manufactured break wall. You got an idea about what happened? Murdered, right?” It suddenly feels like they are in a crime procedural.

“Maybe. Probably? You got any way to find out?”

“Isn’t that your job to figure out, Magnum PI?” Adam asks, sarcasm covering his words, but not harshly. “I don’t do detective work… the only dead people I usually find are ones that just ended up that way. No foul play… usually. At least not until that last one.” 

“Well… I don’t think natural causes drains you completely, unfortunately… did I tell you about that?”

“Drained? What do you mean, drained?” Adam feels something sink in his stomach, weaving past the large gaggle of people on the main portion of the beach as they head to the more secluded shoreline.

“I… I don’t know, just the most _ awful _ feeling of having your very  _ life _ pulled from you. Lots of things could probably do that, but none of them natural.”

“Demons…” It’s the first thing that pops into his head so he says it out loud. One part of his brain circles around vampires, but Cody would never be that stupid or reckless and the Nightmare Family basically  _ own  _ this part of the city.

“Not vampires? Or horribly undead monsters?”

“Wouldn’t you and I fit into the  _ undead monster _ category?” Adam levels back. “And the only vampire clan in this area doesn’t feed on humans.”

“You sure about that? I mean, you probably do know, being Death and all, I just—huh. I guess that’s it.”

Adam turns his attention from Kenny to a body he has to squint to see at first. Then it’s unmistakable. “Oof.” He lets out the sound that matches the unfortunate circumstances. It’s washed up against the rocks like a common piece of trash, palied and wet and drained of color like someone had just used him up and tossed him away.

“Yeah. Absolutely gnarly, isn’t it?” Kenny clicks his tongue. “Alright, Hangman. You’re up.”

Adam grimaces a little and sweeps his hair back from his face, the salty sea breeze making him feel a little sticky. “Alright.” He makes his way forward, picking past the rocks before finally getting close enough. It’s worse than he thought. “Damn…” If the soul is still inside, he looks like he would have suffered for hours before this. Adam lays a hand on the body and feels himself choke on sea water, spitting it up onto the rocks. “Jesus.” He coughs out trying to refocus. He’s never had this bad a reaction to the state of the soul trapped inside.

Vengeance Kenny is mercifully patient, standing beside Adam and even pressing a hand on his back. It makes Adam feel oddly reassured, even though nothing about the situation is actually reassuring.

“The body’s condition is keeping the soul trapped. It needs to be,” he takes a breath. “Destroyed.”

Kenny leans back and cracks his knuckles. “Well, it’s a dirty job… but  _ somebody _ ’s gotta do it. Stand back. I got this.” He strides forward arrogantly, eyes lighting up with red, glaring light, before he forms his right hand into a finger gun and shoots it towards the body… which immediately engulfs with terrifying purple flame.

“Fuck—“ It’s all Adam can say when he sees it ignite, stomach turning again when he smells something acrid in his nostrils.

“I did warn you. Anyway, there’s your spirit.”

The dull glowing light radiates out from the purple smoke before warping into a humanoid shape that then reverts back to an orb and then dissolves into bleak, grey ash that scatters on the sea breeze. 

Something inside of Adam feels like it’s about to snap suddenly. This… this isn’t right. It’s unnatural. The soul gone, just like the body. 

Beside him, Kenny growls, mouth pouring purple smoke and eye flashing like warning, leaving a red trail as he whips around like a feral animal scenting the air.

Adam swallows hard, but then he shakes his anger for the moment when he sees the jerking, unnatural movement of Kenny next to him. “W-whats going on?”

It’s almost like Kenny’s face starts to melt, taken over by a shuddering, angry thing inside him, and his voice hisses out with a thousand voices. “This man didn’t deserve to die. This man… deserves  _ vengeance _ .”

“I-okay? But who are you going to punish? No one is here? You’re going to cause a damn scene.” Adam shakily gets to his feet, but he feels the same kind of hot anger inside of his gut. Kenny isn’t wrong.

Kenny makes a jerking motion, almost like… if Adam didn’t know better, he gets the sense Kenny is going to  _ fly. _

“What are you  _ doing?  _ You can’t just go off like this. You have no idea what happened and someone is going to  _ see  _ you!” Adam reaches out to grab Kenny’s arm, but Kenny jerks away.

“Fuck all that—would you rather the hellmouth keep feeding? People keep dying? I’m going to get to the bottom of this, and you’re either with me… or you’re not.” Kenny growls at him.

“This is what I was talkin’ about earlier! What the hell are you gonna do!? Burn half the city down looking for whoever did this? You—can’t.” Adam grits his teeth. His chest feels like it’s on fire.

“You think I can’t? I’ll find them. I don’t need you to keep me on… on a leash. I’m tired of playing by the  _ rules _ —”

A leash? Adam feels his hands shaking. He only ever wanted to help people, not hurt them. But that’s not what he does. He never had control over this. He’s never had control over anything. And right now it all feels like it’s spinning  _ wildly  _ out his reach. He can hardly hang on…

He feels his grip slipping. His entire body shutters. And then everything shatters. The sky darkens around them to an inky black.

—

_ “I said. Don’t you move an inch, darlin’. Death FoRBiDS it.” _

Vengeance can only barely look up, just from how far his red eyes can move in their sockets. Otherwise, he’s frozen, unable to move and control his own body. Smoke pours out of his mouth as he looks at the face of Death, the flesh of the Hangman’s face disappearing into red smoke by bits and pieces, leaving holes in his cheeks where now-wicked teeth show through.

_ So this… this is how he shows his true face. _

“Now.” A ghostly echo layered on top of a heavier southern accent than before. “What is it you plan to do, exactly? Do you even have a plan? Or are you just over-excited again?”

Vengeance seethes, roiling inside the prison of his own body.  _ I knew you were in there, somewhere. We’re supposed to work together--but instead, you treat me like a dog. You left me-- _

“You did this to yourself. I asked. I asked  _ nicely _ and more than once. You didn’t listen.” Death snaps his fingers and Kenny is free to move again. “I didn’t leave you. You’ve been with me for days, weeks even. We’ve been trying something… different. Adam is...exhaustingly sweet and  _ you’ve  _ been trying to pull me out by any means necessary.”

“You left me out to dry, you  _ refused _ to come out. But it’s  _ fine _ .” Vengeance huffs. “What do you mean, you asked nicely? You wouldn’t help me, you won’t do anything, you wouldn’t  _ listen _ . And now, finally, not only do you come out but you won’t let me  _ do _ my  _ job _ ? Fine. Two can play at this game.” Vengeance takes a deep breath, closes his eyes… and tries to fall.

—

His eyes reopen, and they’re bright blue. “...Adam? Is… is that you?”

“Kenny.” Adam's voice takes on a softer tone, but the air is almost cracking around him, the space being distorted by shadow as he steps just a fraction closer. He wasn’t expecting Vengeance to be so childish. He also wasn’t expecting to be confronted with the very human part of Kenny Omega. It’s unexpectedly delightful. “Has anyone ever told you that you have the most beautiful eyes?” Adam reaches out a hand to tuck a stray curl behind Kenny’s ear.

“No—I mean, maybe, but,” the color rises in Kenny’s cheeks as he leans into the touch, and Death can hear his heart beating a mile a minute. “What happened to your  _ face _ ?”

So fragile… it’s the only thing Death can think. His hand lingers on Kenny’s cheek. 

“The flesh is weak. Sometimes it burns away.” He answers honestly. “Does it bother you?”

“I… no, it just… surprised me. I mean, I guess it is a little weird, but it’s cool at the same time. You’re…” His voice drops to a whisper. “You’re still really hot like this. It’s… kinda  _ scary _ how much I still want to kiss you right now.” Kenny blinks, and his eyes widen even further. It’s surprising what truths people will loose from their lips in the face of Death.

Death cocks his head. “I tend to have that kind of effect on people.” A smile, one that shows all those teeth peeking through flesh. “Honesty is important. If we don’t have an understanding between us, then what do we have, darlin’?” He uses a finger to lift Kenny’s chin. “You can have your kiss, but I have business with Vengeance. He’s angry. Does that mean you’re angry as well?”

“I…” Kenny’s brows furrow in confusion. “Vengeance is… angry with me? Is  _ Vengeance  _ the name of what’s… taking my memories away? I don’t think I’m angry at you. The last thing I remember, we, I mean Adam and I, we were playing Street Fighter…”

“Angry with  _ me.  _ Not you. I actually don’t know how anyone or anything could be angry with you.” Death can feel Adam’s innate humanity rattling around inside of him, like some sort of incessant alarm he can’t shut off. “Vengeance can be petty. But then again, I know that that’s inside you somewhere too.”

“I mean, I’m not perfect, haha… plenty of people have been angry with me before. I… tried to bottle up that ugly part of me. I don’t  _ like _ being angry. It feels… like it takes control of me. Like I want to make the world burn. It’s easier just… not to deal with it.” 

Kenny’s face is so painfully open and honest. At this point, Death knows this isn’t his power--this is just the man, Kenny Omega, confronted with the truth of his most private secrets and regrets. Because he trusts the Adam that’s inside of Death.

“Don’t.” Death’s fingers slide back to cup Kenny’s cheek. “Don’t bottle it up. It will eat you alive, add more fuel to Vengeance's fire and then it will burn out the both of you.” He pauses. “You can show the world some of your edges. Let go of some anger, so you can still keep the soft side of you, too. For me.”

“Okay… I.” Kenny takes a deep breath, turning his face into Death’s skeletal hand, his beard softly brushing the exposed bones and making Death’s touch tingle. He is truly beautiful in all his vulnerable mortal elements. “I can try,” Kenny breathes, kissing that skeletal thumb with soft lips. “It’s scary to think about, but… I want us to try and be happy. I like to see you smile. You’ve got such a nice smile. And I don’t want you to be sad. Well, you, Adam, um. You… are him, aren’t you?”

“We are the same. Untapped potential. Much like Vengeance who is also you, yet you don’t seem to remember.” Death thinks for a moment, all too willing to make a potentially dangerous wager. He doesn’t hesitate to make the offer, even as his thumb brushes back and forth along the length of Kenny’s lower lip. “Would you like me to bridge that gap?” 

“Mnnn--” Kenny’s eyes close halfway, clearly having trouble focusing on the matter at hand.

“That’s not an answer, darlin’.” Death needs a yes or no. He’d hate to be accused of stacking the deck in his favor. 

“Will it hurt?”

“No. I’ll make sure of it.” Death doesn’t lie. He’s incapable.

“Then--yes. I need to remember. For Adam. As long as I still get that kiss.”

He doesn’t hesitate. Death pulls Kenny close and gives him the kiss he asked for, exhaling red and grey smoke directly into his mouth. The red surrounds Kenny inside and out, and his body goes limp in Death’s hold as it overtakes him.

His heart stops for 8 seconds, then restarts, and Kenny takes a deep breath as he comes back to himself. “I--burned that…  _ werewolf?  _ alive and… oh, god, I really said all that to Adam… and--okay, remembering  _ that _ isn’t that bad, maybe,” he adds quickly with another blush. His expression changes again, as he keeps remembering what he had forgotten, the two halves of him merging slowly into one.

Death recognizes the sour look on Kenny’s face a second later and lets out a short laugh. “Still angry with me?” 

“You  _ froze _ me. Does Adam know about that? Or are you gonna keep that from him out of the interests of partnership?” Kenny’s posture turns slightly more menacing now, as he slides his head out of Death’s grasp, and works his tongue along what remains of Death’s lips and along his exposed teeth.

Death  _ shivers _ . Only Vengeance can seep into his blood like this.    
  
“Honestly? Do you think Adam can handle it? I’ll be more than happy to let him remember. You just might not like the consequences.” Death pushes a skeletal hand into Kenny’s curls.

“Nnngh, he’s a big boy. You really think we can keep going back and forth like this? You’re a fucking  _ tease _ , Death.” Kenny wraps an arm around Death’s now-bare torso, pulling them closer together. “You only come out when there’s work… all work and no play?”

“All this and no thank you for settling your soul?” Death smiles, something terrifying and almost crooked with too many teeth exposed. “Adam is… fragile. He’s going to break into thousands of pieces if we’re not careful. But you’re reckless, so I guess you’ll be the one sweeping up the mess that’s left.”

“You didn’t settle my soul. You said it yourself, it had already happened. And yeah… something tells me fixing broken dreams and broken men is part of my  _ wheelhouse _ , babe.” Kenny presses his long nose against Death’s stub of one. “Come, give me something--just a parting gift. We’ll call us even after you showed how tight of a leash you can put me on…” He smirks. “...because luckily for you, I  _ can be _ into that kind of thing.”

_ Terrible brat.  _

Death relents, something he’s not known for doing, and kisses Kenny again--honestly this time. Half-skeletal hands trace across his back and he feels Kenny moan, terrible and sweet against his lips and rumbling through his jawbone.

_ Can’t we stay like this?  _ Kenny thinks as they kiss--to Death’s surprise that he can hear it.  _ I know I asked… but now I don’t want it to go back... _ The other man licks into his mouth, tracing the edges of his teeth and bringing up a hand, rubbing his own tongue through the melted portions of Death’s cheek with his thumb.

Vengeance always did drive a hard bargain. Death even thinks about granting him his wish.    
  
But.    
  
He can feel Adam clawing his way back up. A stubborn man that refuses to just rest.    
  
“Be nice.” Death’s words echo when he pulls back and that's all the warning he gets before he goes limp in Kenny’s arms.

  
  



	6. Ego

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood is spilled, comfort is found in the most unlikely of places, and things get infinitely more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your continued likes and kudos and kind words. Things get way more complicated in this chapter and remember rebounds are rebounds for a reason. There is a method to the madness.

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 6: Ego**

When Adam wakes up, he feels like he’s suffocating in a desert without air. His mouth tastes salty like he’s been gargling sea water.    
  


_ What…? _

He jolts awake in the passenger side of his pickup truck, the buzz of the lights in the parking lot clear in his ears and the gentle rolling of waves from the beach peppered with the far away sound of gulls dance on the edge of his senses. It’s like a memory replaying itself. It’s dark outside. But...it was the middle of the day when they got to the beach. The implications immediately make his heart sink.

There’s a pulsating electronic song on radio, something unfamiliar to Adam, but it seems to fit Kenny. Speaking of the man… he’s got a frustrated, grim expression on his face, like he’s resigned himself to what he’s doing, but he isn’t happy about it.

“Ugh--” Adam shifts in his seat, pulling himself up slowly. He feels like he got hit by a truck. 

“Oh--thank god, you’re awake.” Kenny slowly hits the brakes, the truck slowing to a halt before he turns the hazard lights on. “We don’t have to head to the hospital.” A wave of relief washes over the other man’s face in the dull orange glow of the highway lights.

“What the fuck.” The words nearly ooze out of his mouth. Adam grabs his jaw and cringes as he moves it around. He feels a deep ache there. “Wanna fill me in? Or maybe I don’t wanna know.”

“That’s right, now you’re the one who doesn’t remember.” Kenny heaves a long sigh, before leaning his head back against the car seat. “How much do you  _ want _ to know?”

Adam rubs at his temples. “I got up to… that damn soul dissolving. Just--give me everything.”

“It’s a bad idea…” Kenny looks at him, his blue eyes flashing red for a second. Or maybe it’s just the light of a passing car lighting up the truck.

“Okay. So? What isn’t a bad idea in this whole thing?” Adam does feel panic in his chest, but he’s trying to be as level headed as he can be even when things seem to be spinning wildly out of his control and he isn’t sure what form of Kenny he’s talking to.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Kenny puts a hand on his shoulder, trying to soothe him. “Shh, shh. Adam. This isn’t my fault. Well… okay, maybe  _ partially. _ I antagonized you a bit, but… it’s not my fault you’re Death. That was just destiny, and we have to make the best of it, okay? So please… don’t shoot the messenger. Okay?”

“Yeah. Maybe it isn’t your fault, but my mouth tastes like salt water and my body feels like it got hit my my truck so you gotta fuckin’ tell me something.” 

“I can do better than that.” He puts his hand on Adam’s forehead, and lets the memories flow forward.

Adam lurches in his seat, feeling everything patch itself together in his brain. “I… you…” He can’t wrap his brain around it. “You’re…” He can’t form words. He sees flesh pulling away from his hands, his face...he sees red glowing eyes. “I did something to you.”

“It’s okay. Just take your time. Breathe. Take time to process things.” Kenny squeezes his shoulder. “Now you know how I felt, heh. Not that I wanted you to. It’s like the world’s worst headache.”

“No. I did something to you. I… controlled you. With just a word.” The horror sweeps over Adam like a chill. “Like you weren’t even a person.” Like he  _ owned  _ him. Adam scrambles to get his seatbelt unbuckled, grabbing the door and swinging it open. He needs air. He feels like he’s going to throw up.

“It was a mistake--I was goading you. That ugly side of me came out, I’m so sorry--I shouldn’t have. I was trying to pull Death out, and I did, but look. I’m not proud of it, Adam please--” Kenny scrambles out across the console after Adam, the key still in the ignition.

“Oh god that’s why I couldn’t remember. I’ve… I’ve got something inside of me too.” Adam falls to his knees on the grassy side of the road. He doesn’t even hear that Kenny tried to bait him, brain moving right past it to hyper-focus on his own failings. Of which there are many. 

“Listen, Adam. Adam!  _ Please _ listen to me!” Kenny runs after him, scampering up the side of the road covered in low foliage.

How could he do this? What kind of thing is inside of him that could so easily control another person? Where does it start and end? He feels himself shaking and when he leans forward he lets out a sob that wracks his whole body.

“Hey, Adam. Hey. Listen. It’s--it’s gonna be okay.” Kenny wraps an arm around Adam, pulling him close and rubbing his back. “I burned someone… two people. I’m still not… I don’t think I’ve processed this. But... trust me. We’re gonna be stronger together. Okay?”

Adam doesn’t want to be touched, but he can’t form words at the moment to protest. All he can do is let whatever ugly emotion inside of him out as he feels tears on his cheeks, his body wracked with sobs as he presses his face into Kenny’s shirt.

Kenny just holds him as lightly as he can. “You aren’t alone. We’ll figure this out…” Though he’s not too sure himself; he’s trying to convince himself too.

“Just—“ Adam pulls back and wipes his face, angry at himself and angry with the situation. “Take me home.” How can this possibly be okay? What kind of negotiated relationship even is this? How is Kenny okay with this? How can he possibly be okay with this?

“Yeah. Can you--can you walk?” Kenny smooths a hand over Adam’s hair.

“I’m fine.” Adam takes a deep, shuddering breath before he wipes his face again and gets to his feet. He can’t do this.

“Okay,” Kenny says softly, turning to walk back to the truck.

He’s not fine.

—

“If you’re immortal, can you get sick from eating too many Skittles?” Matt has questions, more than he can count actually, but he’s trying to keep them at bay in favor of actually trying to be a good friend and take Kenny’s mind off… well, everything apparently. He watches Kenny rummage in his backpack for another bag of Skittles, taking a break from his DDR session only to indulge in more junk food. 

“Can  _ you _ get sick from too many Skittles?” Kenny asks, his question muffled by all the candy he’s cramming in his mouth.

Matt’s eyes slide over to Nick, but his brother just shrugs, making the same kind of confused face back at him. No help. Just like usual. “I don’t know, bud. But I don’t think I’d want to find out. You need anything? Water? Some fresh air? Less candy?” 

“Nah, I’m fine. There’s fans in here. I’ve got my water--I just gotta keep going until I can get at  _ least _ an A rank in Tsugaru on Heavy. I’m rusty. Off my game. Gotta just get--limbered up, get that good carbohydrate  _ rush _ …” Kenny takes a big drink of water before hopping up and shaking out his limbs. “Alright. My goal is in sight. Gotta… stay focused. I got this.”

“Kenny.” Nick finally speaks up and Matt sighs in relief. “You wanna talk about it? Like… any of it? We’re okay to listen.” It’s obvious what his brother is talking about, but Matt makes it a little more concrete. 

“You’ve been through a lot.”

“Oh pfft, guys, I get you’re trying to make me feel better about getting a C rank on the last song I did, and yeah, that was a bit of a bruise to my ego, but  _ come ON _ . If I’m not cutting myself any slack, you guys shouldn’t cut me any slack!” Kenny chuckles a bit manically, before hopping up and slipping another coin into the DDR machine.

“Kenny…” Matt starts again, but he feels his brother's hand on his shoulder suddenly. 

The admonishment comes soft enough so Kenny can’t hear it over the cacophony of the dance music and the general arcade noise. “Listen. He doesn’t want to talk about it and I’m not gonna make him.” Matt knows that tone in Nick’s voice; it’s the ‘defeated but not happy about it’ tone. 

“Okay, well then, what do we do? Just wait here until he decides he wants to talk? That could be never... he could probably keep going all  _ night  _ now.” Matt makes an exasperated gesture with his hands. “He’s not human anymore. He could play DDR for weeks, probably.” He cringes a little at the thought. 

Kenny keeps rhythmically tapping his feet against the hard plastic buttons on the machine’s floor, muttering under his breath, before what is clearly a chorus of “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” quickly goes from muttering, to talking to himself, to yelling.

It’s enough that people across the arcade look over. Matt feels horrified. It turns out anxiety doesn’t stop even if you turn into a demon. 

“We can’t let him cause a scene.” Matt looks at Nick panicked. “Do you think he’s on the level, or…” 

Kenny tries to rein it in, taking deep breaths and trying to redouble his efforts, but he’s clearly got something on his mind that’s taking away from the game.

Finally, the music comes to a halt, and the electronic beeps sound that signal the score being counted, before the game’s overly-gleeful announcer says, “A little bit of good, a little bit of bad… come back again!”

“Great… a D-rank and now it’s mocking me! Gah!” Kenny grabs the bar behind him before sliding down to sit in a heap on the DDR platform.

“Kenny we can go do something else.” Nick offers. “Shoot baskets… ski ball… I’m sure Matt will even let you kick his ass in Mortal Kombat 2 again.”

Kenny shakes softly, and the sounds of muffled laughter emanates from under his arms.

Matt glances at Nick before he steps forward and puts a hand on Kenny’s shoulder. “Buddy.”

Kenny looks up, his face wet as he keeps shaking under Matt’s hand. “I don’t--I don’t know what to do any more. He’s gone--he’s gone and it’s all. My. fault.”

“It’s not. It’s not your fault. Come on.” Matt gets down to Kenny’s level and he sees Nick do the same. 

Kenny shakes his head slowly. “No--no, I did, it is. I… I threatened… do something really,  _ really _ bad, just to--I dunno, piss him off, to make Death come out… but I didn’t know what else to do. He was repressing it, pushing it down, and I thought it would make things better, but instead--” His voice shudders in a gasp. “I broke it. I broke everything.”

“Please talk to us about it. We want to help, but I’m gonna be honest dude, we don’t really understand what’s going on.” Nick admits and Matt still has his hand on Kenny’s shoulder. 

“Come over to our place. Let's get out of here.”

The curly-haired man nods silently, letting himself be pushed up and ushered out.

Matt let’s Nick take Kenny out and he circles back to grab Kenny’s backpack. Matt was trying to give Adam… Death...  _ whatever  _ the benefit of the doubt, but now he’s just pissed off. It doesn’t matter if he knows exactly what happened, Kenny’s unstable state is enough to get his protective side riled up.

\--

Even six stories into the air, the gentle roar of the surf echoes through every open window in Matt and Nick’s apartment. It’s the benefit of a condo probably ten times more expensive than his own. So, Kenny lays on Nick’s bed, staring at the ceiling and dissassociating. He vaguely registers Nick and Matt talking in a stage whisper in the living room. He knows they’re talking about him... but he can’t bring himself to care.

Vengeance has given way to a deep and abiding  _ apathy _ .

“Kenny.” Matt is suddenly hovering in the doorway. “You don’t have to say anything, but I think it might help if we talked about some stuff. Not like… not anything with Adam, but just everything else.” 

“God, where do I even start,” he groans.

“Wherever is easiest I guess.” Matt doesn’t move from the doorway, leaving Kenny space as if to let him know it’s okay if he needs it.

“I mean, I already told you,” Kenny starts, shrugging as best he can while sinking into Nick’s fluffy down pillows. “I fucked up. I… I don’t know what more there is to  _ say _ ! I just… once is a coincidence. Twice, well…” Kenny shakes his head, thinking for a second and wiping his eyes. “‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ You know he actually said that to me? 

“But all this time, I’m laying here thinking. It’s gotta be me, right? Maybe… I mean, I could try therapy, but I don’t know how to explain that my anger can take a physical form, which is now also kind of integrated into my personality--but I still feel like I’ve swallowed a can of helium?” Kenny laughs brokenly again. “No, no. They’d cart me away for  _ sure _ .”

Matt is quiet for a moment, like he’s trying to think something through. “Can I tell you something weird?” He takes a step forward, unsure. Kenny looks up at him. “I’m glad you’re like us now. I think that whatever happened sucked, but I knew I didn’t want to keep hiding shit from you.” Matt finally sits next to him on the bed. “We’ve all got some pretty messed up stuff going on, but it only feels okay because we’ve got each other to lean on. If your idiot neighbor doesn’t get that, then he can go to hell. Literally.”

“I don’t know if he  _ can _ , considering he’s Death, but…” Kenny blinks. “Fuck, I’ve gone and made this all about me, and all this time you guys were… were  _ demons _ ? And I didn’t even know? So, so you’ve just been dealing with this all by yourselves right? God, I’m so selfish…”

“It’s not like that. You didn’t ask because you didn’t know. Nick wanted to tell you after it started happening, but I told him not to because I figured we lose you if we did. It’s not every day you just  _ turn  _ into something else.” Matt looks over at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But I think you know that already.” 

“Yeah. But… you’re right, and you’re not alone any more. I just--I’m not broken, right? I’m not… a bad guy?”

“Look, man. I don’t know about all that. I think bad is relative.” Matt takes a breath and his glamour falls away, tanned pinkish skin slowly giving way to a deep violet. He’s never shown his demon self to Kenny before, and Kenny draws his breath in soft. “I do know, that you don’t have anything that you didn’t already have. You made a mistake, it’s not because you’re some immortal being now or whatever… it’s because people make mistakes. If you regret it, I think that’s a pretty good sign that you’re not a bad person.”

Matt looks at him with golden, catlike eyes, and long, branching horns slowly appearing from the top of his head. They’re not growing… they’ve been there the whole time, Kenny just couldn’t see them.

“Again. It really sucked keeping this from you.” Matt tells him again, and it feels like he’s just going to keep doing it until he tells him it’s okay. “What… what do you think?”

“Purple… it suits you. You look. Really handsome.” Kenny smiles and laughs, and in his nervousness, he tries to defuse the situation with a joke. “You ever think of getting… a piercing or something else to go with your ‘new look’?”

Matt laughs. “Don’t think it ever really crossed my mind. Just trying to keep things quiet so I don’t think about accessorizing my new look too much.”

“I dunno, it’s just a thought. You know, ‘Purple Rain’ and all that. Anyway, uh. Thanks. For keeping me going even through a meltdown.” He pauses, thinking. “A  _ second _ meltdown. Hopefully the last one. No more men. Other than you guys, I guess. I’m done with dating, with romance, with the whole thing. Sick of it.”

“Understandable.” Matt just smiles at him. “But I think you’ve gotta figure this one out. Even if the answer is ‘fuck all this’. You need closure—you didn’t get any previously.”

“Yeah. Is it okay if for right now, I just need it to be ‘fuck all this’? I need to just… consider it like a weird thing that didn’t work out? I… don’t know much else I can handle past that. Feelings-wise, I mean. Because now I have to figure out these… weird powers too.”

“Nick and I are figuring it out too. We can do it together. I think as long as the three of us stick together, everything will be okay.”

“Okay.” Kenny takes a deep breath. “I think… I think I can handle that.”

\--

_ What kind of love have you got?  _

_ You should be home, but you're not.  _

_ A room full of noise… and dangerous boys. Still makes you thirsty and hot.  _

Adam listens to the song for the third time on repeat, leaning against the more rocky part of the seawall on the beach, phone balanced on his leg and bottle of whiskey at his side. He’d have picked something better than Jack Daniels, but beggars can’t be choosers and he can feel the tingle in his limbs that let him know at least it's doing its job. 

“Victim of love--I see a broken heartttt.” He sings along quietly, words slurring just slightly before taking another drink from the bottle.

His phone starts vibrating on his leg then, so suddenly that it starts to slip from its place.

“Fuck--” Adam startles and scambles to grab it, pushed out of his thoughts for just a moment as he squints at the caller ID.

**CODY** , it says, displaying a picture Adam took of an empty mirror where you can definitely see his hand holding his phone in the corner. Adam’s so tickled and distracted by thinking about his own joke, that he doesn’t realize he twisted his leg  _ just _ enough for the phone to slide off his knee and crash against a rock.

“Oh fuck off.” Adam groans before grabbing his phone and examining it, the large crack somehow making something in his chest hurt before he tries to answer.    
  
“Hello?” 

“Hey, Adam, it’s Cody. Everything going okay, dude? You sound a little… oh, I don’t know. Messed up?” Cody’s voice is reassuringly normal, even though he’s a vampire. It brings Adam momentarily out of his funk; he needs to pretend to be okay, at least for a little bit.

“I’m fine. I’m—it’s fine. What can I do for you, man.” He laughs into the phone. “I dropped my phone, but it’s good.”

“Hey, I was wondering… you want to come over and watch the Heat game? Maybe have a couple beers?” The voice on the other side is so casual, so friendly. Like socializing comes so easily to him. What he sees in someone like Adam… is an eternal mystery.

“Oh. Oh, yeah, that sounds good. I just… gotta get some stuff together.”

“Okay, cool. Great, man. So I’ll see you at, say, 6:30?”

Adam looks at the bottle next to him and tries to conceal his sigh. “Yeah. I’ll be over.” He of course has to remember Cody’s address that’s somewhere in his contacts. If he can even get his phone to work enough to get there. “Still have that big fuck off gate in the front of your house?”

“Yeah. Just use the code--I’ll text you in case you forgot. You sure you’re good? I can come get you, if…?” Cody trails off.

“Uh. Maybe...you should. I’m not home right now.” Even a little less than clear headed, he’s not an idiot.

“Okay, where you at? I’ll come and pick you up. No problem. Just… send me your location. You’ve got an iPhone, right?”

“Just gimmie a second.” Adam fumbles with his phone again, trying to ignore the crack in order to open the Maps app and take a screenshot. This shouldn’t be this hard, but he’s thinking with only one side of his brain at the moment. “Sending now.”

“Alright. I’ll be there before you know it.”

\--

Adam forgot just how  _ clean  _ everything in Cody’s house smells. It almost wakes his senses up as soon as he walks in, after 10 minutes of almost-melting into the plush leather passenger seat of Cody’s fancy car that he can’t remember the name of. “How the hell don’t you get lost in here.”

“Vampiric senses,” Cody says with a waggle of his finger that is clearly meant to be illustrative, before sliding smoothing behind the bar. “Pick your poison, cowpoke.”

“Really?” Adam laughs, but he follows Cody over to the bar, his own bottle left discarded on the beach. “You know what I like.”

“Alright… Woodford Reserve, neat it is.” Cody smirks. “Got some new cigars in too. We can have a whole good ole boys party if you want.” He uncorks the bottle with a satisfying _ thonk _ and pours Adam a glass before sliding it across the marble bartop.

Adam feels himself unspool as he gives into some of his worse habits. “Sounds good man.” He takes a deep sip from the glass. “Thanks for coming to pick me up by the way. The last couple of weeks have been… well. Not great.”

“This still about the failed reaping?” Cody grabs a crystal decanter full of red liquid and pours it into his own glass over a twist of orange peel.

“Which one? There were two.” Adam eyes the liquid for a moment, but then he takes another drink from his own glass. “Which I have to say is new.”

“Last I heard, there was only one. So, what exactly happened the second time?” Cody sits down in a plush chair right across from Adam.

Adam follows him, legs still a little wobbly, but he manages and almost melts in the softness of the chair right next to Cody’s. “The body was sucked dry of life. The soul was trapped inside, but couldn’t get out. Then the soul just… turned to ash.” He’s abbreviating as to not dwell on exactly how all of that made him feel. He doesn’t want to think about it. “It was fucked up.”

Cody blanches a little, but tries to hide his expression by raising the glass to his lips. Adam sees a flash of long white canines as Cody drinks. “Ash… that’s what happens when… one of us dies.” He clearly can’t suppress a shudder all the way. “Awful way to die.”

“Gods. You’re telling me. The body felt like it had drowned for hours before he died. Then, to just vanish… fuck, man. If I wasn’t already scarred for life, that shit would have given me nightmares.” He’s not even going to mention the actual nightmare afterward.

“Listen, dude… if you need help with these things, I know I’m no reaper or anything, but even just someone to like, be there with you… you know I’m your guy, right?” Cody reaches over, putting a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “I’m sure we’d work together great. I mean, we kind of already are, right?”

Adam tries not to visibly grimace, he raises his glass to his lips again. “Y-yeah. Just some weird shit going on. Hopefully it straightens itself out soon.” He already feels like he missed his opportunity to tell Cody about Kenny. About… everything that he’s been feeling for over a week now. “Everything okay with you?”

“I mean… since you asked. Stuff’s… kinda fucked, actually.” Cody sighs. “I don’t want to burden you or anything though. You’ve got a lot of your own shit going on, I mean--”

“If it’s that kinda night, it’s that kinda night.” Adam sits up a little. “So just lay it on me. Can’t be worse than… well, just tell me. I’ll listen.”

Cody sighs and shakes his head. “The extra blood supply at the hospital we have an agreement with has... dried up. I don’t know what we’re gonna do after the end of the month. Humans need the blood more than we do, I know, but… it doesn’t mean it’s easy. Even Dustin almost came for my head yesterday.”

Adam is silent for a moment, letting everything just sink in. “Dude, I’m sorry. Any idea why? Like how does the supply just vanish?” He can think of any number of things, but Cody is way too smart not to have some sort of back up plan. They couldn't have been relying on just donated blood.

“I don’t know… we can’t find any records of there being more hospital admissions than normal, and usually people donate more blood than they actually transfuse around here, so we can handle it. The only thing I can think of is… I don’t know, collecting blood from the recently deceased or something, but I don’t want to take away from  _ your _ arena. And I’m certainly not going to the morgue, because that’s even fucking grimmer.”

“You can’t drink dead man’s blood.” Adam tells him straight away. “It will make you sick, so, no going late-night shopping at the morgue.” He sets his glass on the table between them and runs his hand through his hair before scrubbing his face with a sigh. “How much do you need a week?”

“God, like…” The other man runs a hand through his own spiky blond hair. “Twenty, thirty units? I know that’s like three peoples’ worth…”

_ Damn.  _

“Well. I’m not…” He hesitates for a second. “From what I can tell, I’m not the only reaper around here. I can’t be. But I sure as hell reap more than 3 souls a week. Once the spirit is gone… I don’t see what the problem would be. But this has gotta be just until you get the hospital situation figured out.”

“Oh, absolutely. It’s totally a temporary solution. I don’t want to make things any harder on you than they already are. But… I really am glad that you’re here.” Cody reaches over and puts a hand on Adam’s hand before squeezing it and looking into his eyes. “ _ Thank you _ , Adam.”

“Cody.” Adam feels his breath catch in his throat when his eyes meet Cody’s icy blue ones. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” He’s suddenly hyper aware of the burn of whiskey in his belly and the sunken skin around Cody’s eyes and cheeks.

Cody swallows hard, holding his gaze. “A week. But--but, you know me, I’m--I come from old blood. I’ll be fine.” His hand is clammy against Adam’s skin.

“Cody. Tell me the truth. Do you need to eat?” Adam’s gaze doesn’t waver. “I’m not gonna judge you.”

Cody’s mouth falls open, and the fangs are still there. “That glass… was supposed to be a snack to tide me over for another week. Until we get more, but… all it did was make me realize how hungry I am--” He licks his tongue over the sharp tips.

Adam’s known Cody for years now. But never once has he felt like this. A burning in his gut. “I don’t know if it’s any good but… drinking from me is a damn sight better than seeing you starvin’ to death.”

“Is that an offer?” Cody’s voice is quiet, and his pupils are blown out.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. This might seem a little weird, but it’s part of it, so…  _ Come here _ ,” Cody says, his voice echoing, unintentionally, with the air of command.

Adam tenses up, but the command flows over him like water. He’s out of his seat in a second, taking a shaky breath before he slides his hair back and exposes his neck.

Cody pulls him onto his lap smoothly, before sharp teeth prick into his neck, sending a feeling of euphoria spreading through his body. His heart beats loud in his chest, and he can hear Cody’s pick up too, the other man’s hands becoming warm as his body relaxes and drapes into Cody’s hold. Adam’s limbs are too heavy to move, but everything he can feel and see is intensified. 

He  _ feels  _ Death rattle inside of him, a smirking ghost in his mind’s eye, before that sensation is gone and replaced by so much warmth that he feels like he’s melting for a moment. He doesn’t know how this works, he doesn’t even know how much Cody needs, but he knows that this was really the only answer in the moment. He’s already let one person down, he can’t afford to do it again, and certainly not in the same week. 

All of that worry and concern washes away, leaving behind only a sense of safety and protection—a bone-deep blanket of assurance wrapping around him that banishes his anxieties and depression. Just knowing that Cody will watch over him and protect him. With Cody, he’s safe. Cared for. Loved. Cody wants him here. Whenever he needs it. And he feels an overwhelming, fiery passion too, a need for skin against warm skin. 

Cody pulls back and licks his tongue across his neck, licking across the line of Adam’s jugular before warm, sucking kisses make their way across his neck, to his jawline. Cody’s fingernails slide up the back of Adam’s scalp, pulling his head back gently and making him shiver. 

“Oh fuck Cody.” Adam lets it slip out and before he knows what he’s doing he’s kissing Cody’s lips, tasting blood but not caring at all. 

Cody moans hungrily into the kiss, his other hand grabbing Adam’s hip to pull him closer, and Adam can feel that the other man is hard. Cody’s teeth scrape Adam’s tongue and blood flows out, mixing in their mouths until it’s hard to tell where Adam stops and Cody begins in the heady mix of sensations Adam gets. 

He feels woozy for a moment but it’s good—it’s so damn good—and when he finally pulls back, mouth bloody and feeling satisfied, his mouth twitches into a slight smile. “I didn’t… know you wanted this so bad.” 

“I’ve been trying not to think about it,” Cody pants, before licking the blood from his teeth. “Because I didn’t think it would ever happen between us. That this would ever happen. But—Adam, I think we could be  _ really good _ for each other.” He rubs his right hand up and down against the back of Adam’s scalp. 

“What about Brandi?” It’s the first thing he thinks to ask, mind hazy, but that’s somehow cutting through. “I don’t,” he swallows hard. “I can’t be a home wrecker.” Not to mention… 

_ Kenny… _

“Vampire marriages are… different.” Cody strokes his fingernails lightly up and down Adam’s lower back, making Adam shiver again. “When you’re immortal… you know there’s some things you can never get from a single other person. When you need to drink blood to live… well, now you know. It’s a sensual act.” Cody smiles. “She’s had other lovers before, we have an understanding, but… I never had anyone that felt right. Until. This.”

_ Jesus Christ, Cody.  _

“Gonna have to be honest. I wasn’t expecting a declaration of love when I came over.” His cheeks feel warm, but it might just be from the blood. “I’m flattered.” Adam kisses Cody’s chin, then the side of his lips, chasing that warm feeling from earlier. 

“Here…” Cody presses his teeth into his own lips, and deep ruby blood wells up. “Lick.”

He shouldn’t. 

But...

Adam does as he’s told, the sensation hitting him just like a pure rush of dopamine right into his brain. It runs all the way down his spine and he moans even when he doesn’t mean to. 

Cody keeps holding him, rubbing his back as if urging him to keep drinking, moaning with him. Adam can  _ feel _ exactly how good it feels for Cody. The purest pleasure. 

It spills between their lips and runs down Adam’s chin. He feels it drip onto his shirt. He can’t think. 

_ A room full of noise… and dangerous boys. Still makes you thirsty and hot.  _

—

“Would it be weird if I… touched your horn? I don’t want it to be like a violation or anything, I’m just… curious. It looks like it has a weird texture to it.” Kenny and Matt have been sitting on the bed on their phones for a bit. Kenny insisted he was okay, but Nick went out to get groceries and Matt refuses to leave him alone. 

Honestly, it’s probably safer that way. 

“Dude, it’s not weird. No one ever asks because no one knows. You can touch it. Er… them. You can touch them if you want.” Matt nods like he’s trying to reassure him. It’s just that no one has ever asked.

Kenny reaches a hand out slowly, feeling the texture of it under his fingers - a rock covered in the thinnest velvet--before pressing a fingernail into it. “Oh! It’s… kinda soft too! For some reason I thought it would just be hard…”

“Full of surprises, I guess.” Matt tries to press down the shutter that runs through his entire body when Kenny touches his horn, the sensation a bit spine-tingling at first, like someone is touching a new limb that’s never been exposed before. His chest warms with Kenny’s compliment.

“Can you feel it? I mean obviously it’s attached to you, but it's not like I can ask a goat if it can feel touch on its horns.”

Matt laughs, even though he’s not sure if he should be insulted or not. This Kenny, the one that says what he thinks without thinking about it too much is growing on him rapidly. “A goat? Well, I hope I look better than a goat… but yeah, it feels like someone is touching a spot that doesn’t get touched very often. That weird tingly feeling.”

“O-oh. Should I stop?” Kenny pulls his hand away like he burned Matt. “You look  _ much _ better than a goat.” Kenny laughs at himself, blushing a little. “It was just the first animal I could think of with horns. But. You look really, really good with them.”

“No!” Matt’s response is almost too quick and he kicks himself for it. “I just… I mean… it’s nice. It’s just nice being able to be like this. You can still touch them if you want.” He’s had a crush on Kenny for the longest time. It’s weird that finally, when he’s like this and not  _ normal…  _ they are having  _ this _ conversation.

“Okay. It’s not like… violating you, or anything? You said it’s like touching something that doesn’t get touched…”

“Kenny. It’s fine. It feels good.” Matt looks at him earnestly, though he’s not sure anything comes across as earnest when he looks like this.

“Okay.” Kenny puts his hand back on Matt’s horn, feeling all the bumps and divots. He thought Matt’s horns would be smooth from the look of them, but as he trails his finger tips along and around them, he finds they’re anything but.

“I know you probably don’t wanna talk about it, but you get anything cool after… ya know? Everything that happened?”

“Uh, I can… make some weird angry purple smoke. And my eyes turn red. Don’t know if that counts. And I can sense peoples’ deaths but… that isn’t great. I’m just gonna ignore that bit for now, since, well, you know.” Kenny reaches his hand down to scratch around the base of Matt’s antlers. “I’ll fix your hair later, but I have a pretty good idea about this feeling good.”

Matt feels a burst of pleasure when Kenny starts in on him, feeling a bit wobbly for a moment and bracing himself against the bed. He feels like he’s in high school again, sitting alone with a crush who he has never really been able to get rid of completely. He figured the next best thing to kissing or doing  _ anything _ with Kenny was being a good friend. Something about this feels dreamy, even if it shouldn’t.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Kenny stops for a second after Matt leans back, his voice full of concern.

“No. It’s like… you’re giving me a scalp massage. It’s totally fine, dude.” He tries to play it cool. He doesn’t know if he’s succeeding.

“Do you think there’s something about me that like… scares guys off?” Kenny asks, leaning back against the pillows as he keeps rubbing and scratching at the base of Matt’s horns. “Like, maybe I’m just inherently unlovable. In a romantic way, I mean.”

“Oh are you kidding?” Matt narrows his eyes and gives a laugh that maybe sounds more rude than me meant it. He’s trying to focus. “You’re a damn catch. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” He shakes his head. “And that’s just looks. You’re fun and funny and…” he trails off when his brain catches up with him.

“You… you really believe all that?” Kenny’s turned to look at him, his blond, blue, and pink curls splayed out on the pillow and his turquoise eyes so open and honest.

“Fuck… come on, that’s a joke, right?” Matt sighs out, like he was holding a breath he didn’t know he was. “You’re fucking beautiful.” He bites his lip after, but he’s already said too much.

_ Dammit. _

“I mean, I don’t think so but  _ thanks _ , I guess… do you think that intimidates people? Has it… intimidated you? Before you were a demon, obviously, because, I mean, look at you,” Kenny says, doing an illustrative once-over. “I mean, I know you and Nick used to be good Christian boys, so maybe you don’t think about… you know, other men like that. But--if you were a woman. Like, what is it, because it just keeps happening, and I--”

“Kenny!” Matt stops him. “Just--shut up.” He swallows hard and just… 

Goes for it. 

He’s pressing his lips to Kenny’s before he can think about it anymore.

They’re just as soft as he always imagined, and after a brief second of stunned surprise, Kenny is kissing him back, his hand struggling to find purchase before squeezing the base of Matt’s left horn tight.

“Mmmm,” Matt moans against Kenny’s mouth, hungry already, but somehow even more so when that tingly feeling rushes down his spine. Kenny is on the rebound, twice over, he shouldn’t be doing this but he can’t help himself.

Kenny pulls back a little, his eyes dazed and lips bright pink from being kissed. “Matt--this isn’t just to make me feel better, right? I mean--”

“You really need me to just put it all out there, huh? Well, let’s put it this way,” Matt licks his lips. “When have I ever done anything just to make someone else feel better?”

“Okay, well, everything in my brain is screaming at me. I just need to. Yeah. Okay. Right.” Kenny brushes his curls out of his face. “Well. Before we, uh,  _ resume _ , I gotta say, you’re a really good kisser?”

Matt shivers hard as the compliment rolls through him, a golden glow emanating off of him just slightly. “God, you’re gonna kill me.”

“Wait, did I… make you glow?”

“That happens when… it’s hard to explain.” Matt leans back against the pillows, still looking right at Kenny. “Pride demon… compliments…”

“Oh, so…” Kenny smiles at him, before a little flash of mischief sparks in his eyes, and he rolls over quickly on top of Matt. “What happens if I kiss your biceps?” Kenny takes Matt’s hand gently, turning his arm so he can press a kiss to the swell of Matt’s inner arms. “I’ve been so busy, with everything… I never told you, it’s really incredible how built you’ve gotten recently? And we’ve been friends for a long time, but, I never even thought--you were off-limits, you know? But now…” Kenny squeezes Matt’s arm, before pressing a kiss to his triceps on the other side. “I can admit that, I mean you’ve always looked good, but  _ now _ …”

“Oh gods…” Something about Kenny now, like this, is wicked. He can’t put his finger on it, but he also can’t think straight. Not with the compliments and not with Kenny on top of him. The golden glow gets even brighter and Matt’s already slit pupils split again. “You can’t do this…” he laughs, grabbing Kenny’s shoulders and pulling him close again.

“Why not?” Kenny grabs Matt’s shoulders in return, squeezing them to massage them. “Fuck, man, your  _ traps _ \--they’re fucking huge, they feel so good--”

“It does things… when you compliment me like that.” Matt can feel his canines lengthen, fingernails shifting into claws.

“Tell me,” Kenny whispers before laying his head on Matt’s chest and kissing him there. “I want to make you feel good.”

“More changes. I don’t really know how it ends up.” He’s never gotten this far with someone who  _ knew  _ about him.

“You should take off your shirt, Matt.” Kenny slides a hand up the curve of his chest. “I want to see what’s underneath. Please?”

Matt isn’t sure when Kenny turned from shy to  _ this _ , but he’s not worried about it. It makes his belly warm and everything else too. He backs up into the pillows more, completely forgetting they are in  _ Nick _ ’s bed and nearly tears his shirt with his claws, it getting hung up on his horns for a second before he tosses it aside. “Better?”

“Yes,” Kenny says with a hungry tone before straddling Matt. He reaches out with both his hands and grabs Matt’s pecs. He starts massaging them gently, kissing Matt’s abs at the same time. “They really are as big as they look--”

There’s  _ hints _ of the old Kenny in there, his voice is soft and full of wonder, but there’s a hungry edge to it that’s new. The forwardness once given permission is new, too. It’s clear Kenny’s changed, but… the change might be for the better, in Matt’s case. All those months Nick and he spent trying to get Kenny out of his shell, to get him to come along for the ride. They must have been going about it all wrong. One accident, a circumstance of fate, and now  _ this. _ If he is just a rebound, well, Matt is going to make the best of it. “What else are you thinking about?”

Matt’s voice has an echo to it that wasn’t there before, and he sees Kenny shiver at it. He looks--smaller, somehow. Or has Matt gotten bigger? Is that another change? “I--well. There’s one part of you I still have left to see…”

Matt shuts his eyes. Part of him still can’t believe this, but something in him pushes back against that. Something that’s just as hungry as Kenny seems to be. “Well. I wouldn’t want you to keep wondering.”

Kenny had been straddling above Matt, but he rolls over beside him with a flop. “ _ ‘Put your hands on me, in your skin-tight jeans…’ _ ” he sings, before giggling to himself.

Kenny is absolutely still Kenny. “Get back here, you asshole.” 


	7. Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We pay a visit to some new friends, new toys, and new developments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: body horror/gore/skin itching (brief; in the section with Adam Cole)
> 
> Some ephemera!
> 
> [hellmouth sounds](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/56asc77YvzLKD0y7UYFSHc?si=vIs3FQQSRtemYW6TLh-ToQ), a Spotify playlist for the soundtrack of Miami Vices
> 
> [death fight reap repeat](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0wFpmxFNGRIIr2aphFcGVM?si=4fx-kxsbSN-8rdU2sD1Ezg), one just for Hangman/Kenny

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 7: Lust**

Adam Cole remembers what it was like not to believe in monsters. 

He also remembers life on the road, remembers gas station breakfast sandwiches, remembers nowhere towns in nowhere states--he remembers taking an invitation to come to Miami Beach. Then he remembers everything changing. Somewhere between the beach and the sand and the art deco--Adam finally woke up. He hadn’t known he’d been sleeping, but life has a way of showing you exactly where you’re supposed to be when you’re supposed to be there. Even if you’ve been fighting against what feels like destiny all your life. 

Being a hunter of monsters, demons, and all that was a thankless job, and Adam Cole was never built for it. He always had too much of an ego; he’s been told he thrives on instant gratification. He’s never been sure why, exactly, that's a bad thing? Human instinct after all. Funny though--he’s not sure he’s exactly human anymore.

Ever since he made a poorly planned-out pact with the owner of The Raleigh resort, his life has changed: from one of a down-and-out private eye, to someone with a taste for something more sinister than the mere satisfaction and adulation of a job well done and a nice paycheck to tide him over.

Well, some would call it sinister. Adam might say it feels pretty damn good, aside from all the itching. Feels like his skin’s damn near about to fall off, even when he’s got a glamour on to hide the slowly-growing bump on his head. Being _summoned_ back to The Raleigh is always an interesting experience, but one he’s come to enjoy more and more, for a whole host of reasons.

He shakes out his limbs, takes a deep breath and heads through the lobby, past the concierge desk and to the pool. The Raleigh isn't open for guests at the moment... and the renovations on it have paused for obvious reasons. Adam tries not to think about the… unpleasantness… of the day before as he walks out to the huge, hourglass-shaped pool. "Britt...?"

The vivid pink-skinned demon in question is lounging topless in the pool, clearly not interested in trying to appear at all human as her tail flicks happily in the water underneath her floatie. "Hi, babe! Glad you could join me, because I--" she gestures for him to come closer with a hand. "--need to talk to you."

“Is everything okay?” Okay is relative around here, but Adam is silently hoping she doesn’t have another job for him like the one from yesterday. Though he’d never say that out loud.

“Perfect, in fact--you’ve been so perfect. Such a perfect boy for me.” She smiles tight at him over her topless chest, before sighing long-sufferingly and covering herself with her arms. “Sorry babe… don’t want you to get _too_ excited when we have business to attend to. I thought, since you’ve been _soooo_ good, I’d give you an easy job. A job you’d enjoy. What do you think about that?”

“I mean…” Adam starts, feeling compelled to peel his shirt off as well as his shorts, leaving nothing but black trunks underneath. He was ready for the pool before he even really thought about it. He’s happy to not have much on. Helps with the itching. “You know I’d do anything you needed me to do.” He’s proven it, even if it broke him a little to do so. He wades into the water without another thought.

“Oh, babe,” Britt sighs as she reaches out a hand to scratch under his chin. “I don’t mean like _that_ ,” she says, eying him up and down, before continuing, “As much as I’d like to, you silly boy. I need a contractor. There’s a lot of work to be done here… and the one that came by yesterday didn’t exactly, uh, pass the entrance exam.”

The scratching under his chin almost makes him melt. 

He’s just so damn itchy. 

“Oh. Okay. Make sure whoever it is can actually work here and not…” Not be subsumed by the same thing that subsumes most humans that walk past the lobby. A deep, unyielding, all-consuming lust. “Well, it’s not like we both don’t know.”

“Mmm. Exactly, babe.” She grabs his chin gently between her thumb and a forefinger. “Now... I feel like you mentioned… you know some people who used to work construction. That right?”

Adam feels the sharp stab of panic in his chest take him out of his haze. 

“I do, the Jacksons.” He works at tamping down the concern in his voice. “But babe… they’re... human. They’ll just get swallowed up like everyone else that walks in here.” Adam Cole is a lot of things, but he’s not the type that would sacrifice his friends. Not yet at least. 

She sighs. “I guess it’s time to tell you about how these things work, isn’t it. After all… you’re changing again, aren’t you?” Britt goes back to idly scratching her long, purple nails under his chin.

All the itching. Like something is just trying to work it’s way out from under his skin. Adam shudders, feeling pain blossom behind his eyes before it moves up and he feels like doubling over for a moment, waist deep in water. “I don’t… know… what’s happening.”

“Shhh… babe. Let your glamour go. The spell I taught you, to hide things you don’t want other people to see. Just… stop focusing on it.”

He shakes in her grip, feeling her hands on him for a moment before he exhales through the pain he’s feeling and tries to do what he was told. It feels like scratching the itch you’re not supposed to scratch. Like opening a wound up that’s scabbed over, but inside of him--it feels like all these things he can’t, and never could, describe.

“Good, good. Now. Look at your reflection, and tell me how you feel.”

Adam can only see his reflection in the surface of the water, wavering for a moment before it turns clearer than before and then finally, as the pain continues to ebb through his body he can see it. One black horn, bloody from breaking through skin, finally pushing its way out. It’s longer than it has any right to be. “I…” he stammers before he feels another burst of pain and he almost rushes to the side of the pool, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

“Oh, babe. It’s okay. I know it’s hard to go through, but… you’ll feel _so much better_ when it’s done. You’ll be the perfect version of yourself. The one you always wanted to be, on the inside,” Britt reassures him from her place on the pool floaty, voice like warm honey.

He feels like he’s burning up. Britt’s voice is soothing, but it can only do so much. Adam covers his mouth as he screams, skin cracking and peeling, skull splitting as blood pours into the water.

“Come on, Adam,” Britt says, clicking her tongue gently. “You didn’t think you’d be able to make an omelet without cracking a few eggs, did you? Just suck it up… soon, this will all be worth it.” 

—

“God, I can’t believe I had to go through all _that_ just to be able to drive a friggin motorcycle,” Kenny sighs as he looks at his shiny new driver’s license. “All that for a tiny letter A on the front.”

“Again. They weren’t just gonna give you a motorcycle without a license and to be honest I am kinda itchy thinking about you getting behind the wheel after the last time.” Matt shoves his hands into his pockets as he leans against the outside wall of the car dealership, Kenny’s shiny new motorcycle waiting for him in the parking spot just to their left.

“That… wasn’t my fault and you know it.” Kenny sighs. He’d hoped Matt wouldn’t be weird after what happened between them last week, but he has been… a little short with Kenny if nothing else. Like Kenny’s made of porcelain. Which is ridiculous, frankly, because Kenny already came back from the dead once, and he’s pretty sure he’s cursed to do it again and again.

“I know it wasn’t your fault, but can you blame a guy for being worried? Not everyday you see your best friend get compacted in a metal heap and live to tell about it.” Matt sighs. “Anyway. It’s all yours now. What are you gonna do first?”

“Matt.” Kenny utters the man’s name in a low voice and stops, having noticed Nick wandered to the vending area of the dealership out of the corner of his eye. “Is this… is this about what we did?”

He sees panic flash in Matt’s eyes for a moment. 

“No.” He pushes off the wall. “I mean… maybe? I don’t know. I just want to make sure you’re okay. This doesn’t have anything to do with what we did. You’re a grown up and can do whatever you want. I’m not trying to be an ass about anything, it's just… hard to stop worrying when you’ve worried for so long. Sure you’re immortal now. But you weren’t always. It’s just taking some getting used to.”

“Okay, I just don’t… I know you’ve taken care of me for a long time, Mattie. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do everything for me. I want to do better. I don’t want to be the guy I was… in the arcade last week again.”

“Sorry.” Matt runs a hand through his hair. “Old habits. Just let us know when you need some help. That will help put my anxiety to bed at least.” 

“Yeah.” Kenny laughs softly, before leaning in to kiss Matt’s forehead. “I think I can do that.”

“Than—“ Matt stops mid reply when a pack of twizzlers hits him in the back of the head. 

“Don’t let Matt sucker you in, Kenny. He just wants you to drive him around on your bike because he’s got a thing for bad boys.” Nick swipes the thrown package of candy off the ground and Matt grabs it from his hand. 

“Shut up.” 

“God, now I’ve really gotten myself in the shit, huh?” Kenny rolls his eyes before running to his motorcycle and cradling it in his arms. “My precioussss…”

\--

“Now should we be worried?” Nick asks with a laugh in his voice. Then he elbows Matt in the ribs, smirk clear on his face. “Hey Matt. You wanna ask Kenny if he can take you for a ride? Maybe he’ll even ask you to the prom after.”

“God, Nick,” Matt whispers. “It’s not _like_ that…” He looks out of the corner of his eye at Kenny with his motorcycle, trying to stop the fond smile that’s creeping up on his face, before Nick clears his throat.

His brother is currently the most annoying person on the planet.

“Hey, uh, gotta go sign some, uh, _paperwork_. I’ll be right back,” Kenny says, but they barely notice as he walks away.

Matt wipes a palm over his face. “Look, would you have preferred if I _hadn’t_ said anything to you about what happened? I can do that, ya know? I don’t need to tell you everything.” 

“It sounds like you’re being petty. Which like, I’m not gonna tell you that’s a bad idea but… it’s maybe a bad idea.”

“Maybe I just want to have something for once in my life, rather than sitting back and trying to be the nice guy. Is that… _is that a bad thing?_ ” Matt sighs.

Nick shakes his head and Matt realizes that he’s probably a second away from getting a lecture. He doesn’t really care at the moment. “I didn’t say having something nice was bad. Don’t put words in my mouth. I care about my _friend_ Kenny Omega and my _big brother._ If whatever is going on crashes and burns because you can’t keep it in your pants, and Kenny is too sad to tell you no… then guess who’s stuck in the middle?”

Nick isn’t wrong… and that’s probably the most frustrating part of this. “You’re right. You’re right! I’m taking advantage of his situation. But… I’d just never seen him be that eager before, okay? He’s always so… ‘yeah, sure, brothers, whatever you want!’ I don’t know, Nick, it’s like whatever this… ‘Vengeance’ thing is, it’s finally given him a reason to ask for things he actually wants, instead of sitting back and letting life happen to him. Maybe he’s too sad to tell me no… but he was very eager to tell me _yes_.”

“Cool. Yeah… I _don’t_ need you to tell me anymore. It’s bad enough you did it in my bed. Could have fuckin’ saved that little detail by the way.” Nick fiddles with his headband a little. “Anyway, just be careful. We still don’t even know what this Vengeance thing even is.”

“Yeah… I uh, I am. Sorry. About that. By the way. Won’t happen again.”

“I’m glad for you, really. You’ve been thirsting over Kenny for as long as I can remember, at _least_ as long as you’ve had a crush on Adam Cole so… I’ll back off. But remember what I said about being petty. If that cowboy comes back around, you gotta let Kenny go.”

“Only if he treats Kenny right.” Matt pauses for emphasis. “Right?”

“Well, duh.” Nick gives him a look. “I don’t care if he is Death. I’ll still kick his ass.”

\--

The death signs aren’t as bad when he’s not clear-headed enough to really register them. Adam tastes blood in his mouth, but it’s not his this time—Cody’s is almost sweet and thick like molasses. He feels drunk off of it as he idly pats around on the fluffy black comforter to try and find his pants.

“Mmm, babe, whatcha doing?” Cody asks sleepily, before looking out at the sun setting through the giant bedroom window.

“Death sign.” Adam almost slurs out, taking a deep breath to try and steady himself. “There is a body on the beach again.” He turns the sheets up, but suddenly gets tired of looking and flops back onto the pillows.

“Mmm, let me come help.” Cody slides next to him, kissing his shoulder, then his neck.

“You’re helping?” Adam laughs, feeling Cody’s warmth against him and the urge to slink back into bed and beneath the covers get stronger with every press of lips. “I don’t think this is helping.”

“I could be helping. Just tell me how to help you. I want to come with you.” He pulls back. “You’re beautiful, by the way.”

There is that dreamy feeling again. How many times is Cody going to tell him he’s beautiful? And when is he going to stop feeling a rush from it that slides into guilt, bottoming out in the pit of his stomach? Like he shouldn’t be doing this. Adam keeps telling himself that he doesn’t owe anything to anyone, but that’s just not how his brain works. “You gotta stop saying that or I ain’t gettin’ out of this bed.” 

“Okay, okay. I’m backing off. I’ll get a shirt on, babe. You should probably clean up. Or at least brush your hair.” Cody runs a hand through Adam’s very messy bedhead. Damn curly hair. 

“I’ll put it up. Not like the guy we’re gonna see is gonna care.” It’s the least of his problems at the moment. He tries to sober up by pulling the covers off of him, but the cool air makes him want to bundle back up. “You gonna be good? Do you need…” Adam taps the side of his neck, the pinpricks from just hours ago already healed. Somewhere, the basest part of his brain, he hopes Cody drinks from him again. 

“I’ll be fine. Besides—we have an agreement about the bodies, right?” Cody flashes that winning smile at him. 

Adam’s skin itches after asking. “Yeah.” Adam smiles just a little before he feels a pang of pleasure in his gut and he pulls Cody in for a kiss. 

“You don’t have your heart set on driving there, do you?”

“Didn't really think about it.” He kisses the corner of Cody’s mouth before pulling back. Whatever warm static is between them, Adam feels like he is almost drowning in it. But unlike the hot, almost-burning fire in his chest when Kenny is kissing him, this just makes him feel like he’s floating. “Why?”

“We could, well, I guess you could call it teleporting. We could teleport there.”

“Are there bats involved? There are bats involved, aren’t there? Do you turn into a bat? Is that it?”

“Close.” Cody pauses, for dramatic effect. “A cloud of bats.”

Adam laughs. Loud and bright before he pushes Cody playfully and finally pulls himself from the bed, finding his pants on the floor. “Fuck. I’ll try anything once I guess.”

“Haha, good. I like seeing you smile,” the vampire says, before disappearing into his large walk in closet.

Adam feels another pang of guilt in his stomach. Kenny was the last person that said that to him. It was earnest and open, something raw. He’s realizing now, even just somewhere in the back of his head, that that level of honesty scared him. Cody… well, Cody’s words always feel practiced. There is a weird comfort in that.

Cody’s humming something to himself in the closet as he gets dressed, and the pain of the death sign headache cuts through Adam’s moment of introspection. Remind him never to think about his feelings again.

This one is worse than the ones in recent history. His head feels stuffy, like something is blocked around the edges of the stabbing pain. It’s not unmanageable, but it’s unpleasant. “Headache’s kicking in, we should get going.”

“Right, okay.” Cody pops his head out, wearing a baby blue t-shirt and khaki cargo shorts. He has… definitely looked better. “You ready?”

“Guess so.” Adam winces and takes Cody’s hand when he offers it.

Cody wraps him up in an embrace, and it’s like the bright whiteness of Cody’s bedroom folds in on itself as the sound of bats echoes around him. Cody’s hand wraps around to cup his head. “Close your eyes.”

He does as he’s told, because he sure as hell doesn’t want to _see_ what’s happening around him. A cold chill envelopes him, like a physical thing that pushes against every part of him. Is this what it feels like when he himself teleports? He doesn’t do it often or with anyone at all really, so he’s not sure.

Suddenly, the chill is gone, replaced with a salty, humid breeze and the echoing call of gulls. With his eyes still closed, Adam’s surprised when Cody presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We’re here. You can open your eyes now.”

Adam shakes his head and feels the pulse of pain behind his eyes and the feel of Cody’s lips tingle against his. “Alright. Wasn't as fucked up as I was expecting. Unless you turned into a bat or something.” He laughs before he pulls out of Cody’s grip and senses the body just behind them, the incoming tide starting to encroach on it.

“No. Gross,” Cody says, pulling apart from Adam just a little to examine the body before recoiling as if stung.

“I was just fuckin’ with you. I mean if you did turn into a bat it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing.” He turns on his heel and his bare feet sink into the sand. His heart sinks when he finally looks at the body. He can feel Cody’s tenseness. “Ah, dammit.”

“Yeah.” Cody kicks the desiccated corpse with a foot. “ _Piss._ Can you get the… soul out this time, at least?”

“Hey man, don’t kick the body.” Adam narrows his eyes before he’s on his knees next to it. “Something might still be in there.” He’s quick to lay his hands on it and he sighs in relief when he feels the soul; weak, but present. Adam keeps his touch light, gently pulling the soul out until it materializes into the vague form of the person it used to be.

“Huh. So that’s how it works. Go figure.” Cody’s voice is quiet, none of his usual veneer of bravado present.

“It’s just… it’s delicate stuff.” This is the first time Adam’s put so fine a point on what it means for him to reap souls, but he _has_ somehow always known he needed to be careful with a soul in limbo. He takes the shade in front of him by the shoulder, and it morphs into a bright ball of light before bursting and scattering into the water.

“Is that… is that it?”

“That’s it when half the life has been sucked out of the body.” Adam feels the misty night breeze on his skin when he stands up again. “This can’t keep happening.”

“What… er, who, do you think did it this time?” Cody kneels down like he’s on friggin CSI or something, and then looks up at Adam with the saddest blue eyes. He could be a renaissance painting.

“I don’t know. It will probably take stronger magic that I don’t know to figure it out.” Adam is stuck staring at Cody for a moment before he stands and fishes around in his pocket for his pocket knife. “Blood spell will have to do to get rid of the body. People can’t find it here.” And he hates it, but he doesn’t have someone literally made of fire at the moment to do the job for him.

“Oh. Didn’t know you knew magic, but I guess it, uh, makes sense. Is that part of the whole… Death package?” Cody’s eyes are suddenly focused on Adam’s hands. 

“Some magic. More than I wanna know.” Adam is honest and he glances up at Cody before he flicks the knife open and quickly drags it across his palm. The wound opens instantly and he’s back on his knees, pressing his palm to the flat of the corpse's chest before whispering a spell under his breath.

The corpse dissolves into ash like it’s burned papier mâché, and is carried away by the ocean breeze to dance into the city of Miami. Adam watches it go, but he’s distracted by Cody taking his palm and gently dragging the points of his now-lengthened fangs across. “Blood magic--”

Adam takes a breath after his heart skips a beat from the sensation. “Do… do you need to eat again?” The wound on his palm stings as Cody toys with it.

“No, but--you smell so, so good… I didn’t think--” Cody licks his tongue across Adam’s palm, flat and wet, before sucking a little with his lips. It shouldn’t turn Adam on so much, but it feels amazing.

He tries to hold back a moan, but he can’t help it. The wet sucking noise almost reverberating in his ears and making his spine tingle. “I was asking because… you seem… _hungry_.” Or maybe that’s just him.

Cody looks up at him, pupils wide and blood trailing down from his lips. “You _make_ me hungry. You’re just too…”

Adam’s breath catches in his throat. “Too what?”

“Too sweet.”

“Fuck you.” 

Cody just smirks at Adam before kissing his palm again.

\--

Jon Moxley’s been trying to quit smoking for years. 

It’s just too bad that he has the job that he does. In the town that he’s in.

Miami’s drowning in supernatural bullshit and magic. He doesn't like to think that it’s wearing him down, but he can feel it licking against the edges of his mind every day, from when he gets up in the morning to when he’s lying in bed, begging his anxiety to let him fall asleep. Jon ashes his cigarette and reaches for the Corona that's sitting on the bedside table. He’s clad in nothing but a black tank top and boxer briefs, too hot for anything else while he flicks through pages of a grimoire he’d tracked down a few days earlier. 

He’s not sure why or how Miami became a hotbed of demonic activity, but he’s pretty sure it’s too late to pull himself out now. Instead, it’s all he can do to ward himself from the things that try to leak into his mind in the middle of the night. 

It keeps him from drowning too, but it doesn’t mean it’s fuckin’ easy. Jon's always had a low-key sense for paranatural activity, but until he showed up in Miami, it was a dull rumble, if anything.

Here it's like a livewire, an exposed nerve, bright and sharp and painful.  
  
He hates it. Jon takes another drag from his cigarette and pinches the bridge of his nose. Spells, hex bags—if he could find a ward to stop himself from dreaming it wouldn’t be soon enough.

Bodies piling up on beaches… Jon know it’s more than just a vision, it’s reality. His dreams have never been wrong before, and what they point to is nothing pretty. But he needs more information if he’s gonna take care of this shit. Jon doesn’t mind reading, loves it in fact, but it’s hard to focus with that ever-present _pressure_ , and drugs don’t fix anything, just make it harder. 

He knows better than to spin his wheels. Unfortunately, that also means paying a visit to the one man in Miami he’s been actively avoiding. Sometimes it’s obvious to Jon why everyone here has no idea that Demons sit in all the seats of power in the city. The day isn’t even hours old yet and he can already tell it’s gonna be a long one.

—

There isn’t enough whiskey in the world that’s going to prepare him for the conversation he’s about to have. Jon looks from his phone to the Bay of Pigs monument across the street, to the barred window of an unassuming Calle Ocho storefront. _This is gonna suck._ He exhales a long breath through his lips before pushing the door open, and the air he breathes first thing he steps inside is so smoky, it makes him cough like a kid taking his first bong hit. “Fuck me.”

“Don’t like it? There’s the door. You should know, because youse just stepped through it.” The man behind the register with the buzzed head doesn’t hardly need to raise his voice for it to carry across the tiny shop. He drops his finger from pointing at the door behind Jon to pick his cigarette up and take a drag, exhaling smoke that filters through a standing display of glittering crystals.

Jon already has a headache. 

He’s not here to pick a fight, but he knows that’s the last thing he should say. 

“Eddie.” It’s a low growl and he wipes the corner of his eye where it’s started to water from the smoke in the air.

“Oh, you remember my name? That’s good, that’s great. Here I was thinkin’ you’d forgotten. Forgotten all about me, because that’s somehow _easier_ than thinkin’ hey, you know, ole Jon Moxley, he just walked up outta your life. But _somehow_ , he still thinks he can just come and outta knowhere, show his face and pretend like nothing _fuckin’_ happened. Is that it? Is that it, Jon?” Eddie’s perfectly-shaped eyebrows furrow, and he shoves open the gate that separates the register from the rest of the shop, face ablaze with anger as he walks toward Jon.

“God _damn_ you like to hear yourself talk still. C’mon Eddie. Are you gonna hit me? Please hit me. If that’s what’s gonna get us past this.” Jon sneers before he hits his own jaw with a closed fist. 

“No, I’m not gonna fuckin’ _hit_ you, _Jonathan_ . You see that?” He points, cigarette still in hand, at the security camera behind Jon. “I’m a _respectable_ businessman, and no matter what the law says, if they see me do what I want on that tape, I won’t own this business no more. So no, Jon.” Eddie sneers right back, cracking his knuckles not a foot from Jon’s face. “Even if I don’t know if I want to kiss you or kill you, I’m not gonna do either one, I’m gonna stand here and ask you what the _fuck_ brings you to my fine establishment today, _sir_.”

Jon pushes down the anger that wells up in his chest. Eddie has the balls to tell him that _he_ fucked up? After everything? It makes him see red in a way he hasn’t in _years_. He flexes his fingers, hand balling into a fist. “I’ve got a book that needs deciphered and people are dying out on the beach.” He pauses. “In droves. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t fuckin’ need to be.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow. “You think I don’t know that? What, you think you’re the only hunter out there? _Jesus_.” He shakes his head and turns around. “Nah, nah, nah. You’ve lost it man. City’s got you too.” 

“ _I’ve_ lost it?” Jon laughs, short and humorless. “Fuck, man, I never had it in the first place.” He takes a tentative step forward. “Even if there are other hunters, they don’t got what it takes to stop this. Whatever _this_ is--which is what I’m trying to figure out. You won’t admit it, but you know I’m right.” He’s just swimming against the current like everyone else in the city. It’s just. Harder for him.

Eddie’s face is all screwed up, and he punches a fist into his other hand, shaking the ash off from the cigarette and onto the tiled floor. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , man! Why’d you--why’d you have to leave me? Why’d you have to leave my _mom_? Y’know, she--she’s the reason I came to Miami at all. You left, and--” Eddie wipes a hand over his face, and when he starts talking again, his voice is quiet. “I didn’t know what to do, y’know? Just… She knew me. Knew how I get when things get bad. And she… she knew it’d always been my dream, to open a store. You know. Like we was gonna do together.” He pauses, taking a shuddering breath.

Jon knows this is always the hardest part. When Eddie realizes what’s going on after the anger starts to ebb away. When he can think clearly again. He tries not to let his guard down, but the oldest habits are the hardest to break. “You don’t need me to tell you again that you were the one who broke it off. So I’m not gonna. You didn’t want me, so I had to go.” He’s not gonna apologize. Not for imagined slights. “It’s not simple. Far from it.” He’ll be the first to admit what a piece of work he is, but… “We both…” he stops himself. “You deserved better.” Better than him. That’s all he’ll say. 

“You…” Eddie takes a deep breath. “You were the one who couldn’t stop. ‘Vegas needs me, Eddie.’ That’s what you said. But fine. It was my fault. I deserved better.” Eddie spreads his arms wide, smiling sadly as he shakes his head. “And here we are. Bienvenido a Miami, baby.”

He never fucking listens. 

Well. Jon will make him. 

“I _died_ in the desert.” He doesn’t stop making eye contact with Eddie. “I was practically gargling my own blood--and you know what I was thinkin’ about when I knew I was gonna leave this place? I was thinkin’ about you. How it ended. What I did, what _we_ did. I don’t want a fucking pity party, that’s not why I’m tellin’ you. You just needed to know. I ain’t human anymore, so there is the ‘ _fuck_ _you, Mox’_ you were lookin’ for.” 

“You.” Eddie’s hands have fallen, and he blinks at Jon. As realization dawns on him, the tears welling in Eddie’s eyes finally overflow to roll down his cheek in a single drop. “You--and you came _back_ … Jesus, Jon. What the hell kind of deal did you make.” Eddie’s been into the occult for at least as long as Jon has known him, which is a hell of a long time. And Jon knows he knows nobody comes back from death. Not without paying a price.

“Vegas is _Sin_ _City_ after all. Demons there, just like everywhere. One took a shine to me and wanted to save my life. Tried to say no, didn’t work. So here I am.” It’s a gross over-simplification, but it’s all he’s gonna say. “So you wanted the last laugh. There it is.”

“Fuck, man… you know I never wanted it like that. I mean--I _loved_ you, Mox, shit.” He clicks his tongue, hard. “If I’m bein’ honest… I _still_ do.”

“Yeah? Well, life’s got a funny way of lettin’ you know exactly what you deserve. So. Karma’s a bitch.” Jon scrubs his face with his hands.

“What’s that supposed to mean.” Eddie’s looking at him now. Like he’s searching for something.

“Means I got what I deserved. I don’t know man… maybe you’re right, and I should just show myself to the fuckin’ door.” He’s not even sure why he spilled his guts. He never runs from a fight, but he already feels like he’s been ruined. Going a round or two with Eddie verbally has that effect. 

“Hey. You said I deserved better, earlier. But. Some kinda wiseass once said that life’s got a funny way of lettin’ you know exactly what you deserve.” The other man’s face screws up into a hopeful smile, and he makes a kind of hopeless gesture with his hand. “So. Ya know.” He shrugs, and bends down to pick up the cigarette smouldering a mark into the linoleum.

Jon has the urge to remind Eddie _again_ that he’s not looking for pity, but he lets it drop. “Gonna do what I can, while I can and then call it a fuckin’ day.” He’s tired. So damn tired. But if he does one thing before he hangs it all up for good, it’s stopping whatever is pumping poison into this city.

“Yeah.” Eddie straightens again, before jumping and launching the cigarette butt into the trashcan with perfect freethrow form nonchalantly. “Swish. Kobe’n’all that. Anyway, I guess…” Eddie spreads his arm wide. All the bluster is gone from his attitude, and he just sounds _sad_. “Look around, you get the friends’n’family discount. Cuz. You know. Whether you like it or not, you’re family.”

“Can I show you what been rattlin’ around in my brain instead? Maybe that will help point me in the right direction.”

“Sure,” Eddie sighs. “Pfft, y’know what, go ahead. Fine. Whatevah.”

“Remember you said that.” Jon grabs Eddie’s arm and shuts his eyes, knowing the tattooed sigil on his palm will show Eddie what he sees. It’s a flash of images, blinding and nauseating all at once. Bodies piling up on the beach, bleeding eyes, soulless vessels, and a nightmare very particular to him: drowning in an ocean filled with blood. 

When he comes back to himself, Eddie gasps painfully for air, breathing heavy, before he speaks in a gravely whisper, “Do you… do you see that every night?”

Jon fights off a wave of sickness before he answers, hand still tight around Eddie’s arm. “Just about. Sometimes it’s worse.” 

Eddie’s big hand comes to wrap around Jon’s arm, and a voice in Jon’s head that’s been quiet for a while wakes up, whispering at him.

_Go on, Jon. Take a moment just for you. You’ve been through so much--you deserve some pleasure to go with the pain._

“Eddie.” Jon finally locks eyes with the other man. He feels warmth, and it’s not his own anger burning inside his gut for once. He cracks a small smile. “You smell like incense.”

Eddie just smirks. “Yeah, well, you smell like shit and ashtrays. Lucky for you, you’re hot.” He leans in suddenly, taking Jon’s bearded jaw in his other hand and pressing the softest kiss to Jon’s lips. Jon’s cheek feels wet as he feels the tears still there cold against Eddie’s skin.

The touch ignites a fire inside of Jon that he’s been trying to suppress for a long time now. It’s dangerous, but he doesn’t care. Not now. He takes Eddie’s face in his hands and deepens the kiss, pulling him in and pressing his tongue past his lips. They both taste like cigarettes.

And, just for a second, everything feels like it might turn out okay, even if Jon more than anyone knows that kind of comfort is a lie.

Especially in Miami.


	8. Limbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Golden memories, a not so stunning realization, and a heart shatters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We promise this gets better. Hang on for the ride, we will get to a better place soon. A content warning below for heavy material at the end which is a very real discussion of depression. Please grab some tissues and remember that all is not lost. 
> 
> CW suicidal ideation (in the scene at the stucco apartment building)

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 8: Limbo**

\--

_ “Are you really going to eat that _ whole _ box of Lemonheads?” _

_ “There’s Sour Patch Kids too, if you’re worried there won’t be enough for you.” _

_ “That’s not the point.” Kota Ibushi shakes his head, sighing as Kenny has the gall to look surprised when he pulls the box of candy out of Kenny’s hands. “You’re going to ruin your appetite. Or worse, get cavities.” _

_ “You’ll get cavities,” Kenny retorts, sticking out his tongue. “I’m too sweet for you. Isn’t that what you said the other day?” _

_ The soft glow of the TV envelops them both. Kenny tries to watch it intently. But he’s distracted when he realizes Kota is giggling as he shoves candy in his mouth. _

_ “Hey!” Kenny turns to Kota. “You just took my Lemonheads so you could eat them yourself, you liar!”  _

_ “I did not.” Kota can barely keep a straight face as he turns back to the TV and pointedly away from Kenny with a poorly-stifled laugh. _

_ “You jerk, you’re gonna make me miss the—best part—of this cinematic—masterpiece!” Kenny worms his arms around Kota, trying to get the box of candy back from his wiggling boyfriend. “That’s my last box until Mom mails me another care package from Canada and you know it.” _

_ “I think…” Kota smiles up at him, as Kenny slowly realizes he’s on top of Kota and straddling him. “I am doing you a favor by distracting you from the movie.” _

_ “Oh. Oh, you are, are you… well. Fine. You win this round. Kota. Ibushi _ . _ Dirty  _ cheater _.” _

_ Kota knows how distracted he gets by that smile, and Kenny watches it curve up, his boyfriend’s dimples widening with it. Kota can be a cheeky, sneaky asshole sometimes, the candy shenanigans just a means to an end. “Is there something you are going to do about it?”  _

_ Kota’s brown eyes shine with a blue haze from the glow of the TV in the dark. _

_ Kenny’s attempt to get his candy back has failed, but maybe he can redeem this situation. So he leans down, hands on either side of Kota’s body, before lowering himself to lay on top of Kota. Kenny kisses the edge of that devilish smile. “You’re an ass sometimes.” _

_ “And I got what I wanted.” Kota chases the kiss with another and then another and Kenny feels so warm inside that he could melt _

Kenny shakes his head, as the stoplight turns green, and comes back to the present as his motorcycle roars forward into the lush vegetation of Coral Way westbound. Everything is so green here… but Kenny can’t stop thinking about how much he wishes he could show this to Kota. How much the man who had a fierce love and determination to protect everything, even the smallest bug, would love the lushness of southern Florida, as long as he had Kenny to guide him. It would be so nice, for him to hold Kenny, his body pressed against Kenny’s back as the sun shone through the palm trees…

“Fuck, Kenny. Stop thinking and just drive. You’re fine. Everything’s fine. You have Matt and Nick. Stop being so fucking  _ selfish _ ,” he chastizes himself, before darting around the car in front of him, picking up speed so everything is a blur except the road in front of him.

\--

Chuck learns that if the TV is  _ off _ . At least it won’t static out at the worst possible times. Like in the middle of the NBA Finals or through a watch-through of The Wire.  _ Or _ , when he’s trying to just fucking relax. At least if it’s off, when it clicks on the picture is usually pretty complete and he has less of a desire to throw the remote right through it. 

That has made their apartment rather quiet though, except for the distant sound of the ocean through the sliding glass door. And the sound of the ticking clock from the kitchen. Why do they even have a fucking clock in the first place?

He hears the fridge open and shut in the kitchen behind him, and then Orange comes around the corner to slide onto the couch, bearing two frosty cans of Miller High Life. “TV’s gonna turn on soon,” Orange says, as if in answer to the questions forming in Chuck’s head.

“Thanks for the warning.” Chuck eyes the beers before sliding up to a half sitting position and grabbing one off the coffee table. “Do you know what we got this time? Is it gonna be a horror movie, a rom com? Something else completely?”

“Uhhh… Drama? It involves Kenny...”

“Oof.” Chuck takes a long drink from his beer. “Gonna be one of those kinds of days, huh?” He pauses. “Trent? Get in here! Our soaps are almost on.”

“Oh man, got some hunks ready to cry for us, Orange?” Trent calls in from the other room before running in and sliding onto the floor in front of the couch.

“I feel like maybe we should feel bad about watching this, but damn, Kenny drama is intensely entertaining.” Chuck  _ does  _ feel bad, but this hands-off approach is something he’s trying to get used to.

“I know. I mean, it’s nice not to worry about your own drama and emotion and feelings when you have someone so buff crying about it on your TV, I guess?” Trent looks up at them with pleading eyes, kind of like a puppy. Damn he’s cute. “No beer for me?”

Orange sighs, and pulls one out of his denim jacket pocket. “It’s warm because you were late.”

“Man, you’re the best. Anyone ever tell you that?”

Chuck sighs. Friends don’t let friends have pocket beer, and Trent like totally deserves the best. “Aw, here, dude.” He takes the beer from Trent and replaces it with his own. “What are friends for other than to take your shitty warm beer.” 

“Aw, thanks,” Trent responds as the TV finally flashes on, shining with a rainbow effect of colors before Kenny finally comes on the screen. 

“Curls are on point today.”

“Yeah, he looks alright. Looks all… wind-ruffled.” Trent coughs. “For a dude, I mean. Alright for a dude.”

“Dude you can totally admit that Kenny is hot. Don’t know ‘em, but like if he was drama free. You’d get with him.” It’s a joke, one that maybe lands poorly, Chuck isn’t so sure for a second as he sees Trent’s face scrunch up a little.

“What? No, I mean--if I was a  _ girl _ or something, I would, uh--”

“Fuck dude, I’m just giving you a hard time.” Chuck laughs before rolling his eyes and pulling Trent close, arm looped around him. “ _ I’d  _ kiss him on the mouth. Just saying.” Chuck has never been shy about his likes and dislikes, but maybe making his bi ness more concrete will help Trent’s brain along a little. 

“Y-you would?”

“Duh.” Trent looks a little embarrassed, or maybe unsure of himself, so Chuck gives Trent a reassuring kiss on the cheek quickly before turning back to the TV.

“Would... you kiss me on the mouth?”

“Fucking  _ duh _ , dude! Have you seen yourself in the mirror? Talk about the hunks on TV.” Chuck whistles low and he’s not making fun, it’s with sincerity. 

“I… didn’t think you were into that. I mean. Hunks.” A pause. “You think I’m a hunk?!?”

“Trent. Are you kidding me? You’ve known me for how long? I said I’d kiss you on the mouth so I’ll fuckin’ kiss you on the damn mouth.” His heart feels like it stops in his chest for a moment when the realization washes over him. He hadn’t meant for this conversation to go like this and now...

Trent turns around to look at him, and Chuck can see he’s beet-red. “Chuckie… are we…?”

“Dating.” Orange speaks up. “Duh.”

\--

The sky above the gray expanse of the Palmetto Expressway is a pure, beautiful blue. There’s not a cloud in the sky as Kenny rides north, the wind whipping past his helmet. The brothers’ concern was nice, they obviously care for Kenny, but definitely not nee--

A death sign flashes past Kenny’s eyes, overtaking him with a horrible throbbing pain in his head, and it’s all he can do to narrow his eyes and focus on keeping the vision of the road in front of him. The two competing images--of a woman dead outside an art deco nightclub, and the red Surburban in front of him--swirl in his vision. He grits his teeth and feels blood drip thick down onto his lip as he slowly makes his way to the far right lane.

He hopes like  _ hell _ Adam isn’t there too.

—

Part of Adam was waiting for this. Dreading it even. Another part is thrilled that he can actually see and physically  _ speak _ with a spirit separated with a body for once in what feels like forever. No soul turned to ash, no strange circumstances. Just. A death. Not a nice one, but they hardly ever are. Sometimes people just have to look both ways before they cross the street. 

“It sucks, but that’s just the way it is. Does it  _ look _ like you’d want to be put back in your body even if I could do that?”

The spirit sighs, looks over at her body, and sees the state it’s in. “Uh, ew? Hell no. Just… make me a new one. Or I can get plastic surgery or something. My daddy has money, just have him pay you. Ugh, he’s gonna be so mad at me...”

“Listen. That’s not what I would be worried about right now. We’ve gotta go. Or… I mean. You’ve gotta go. There is no amount of money on this earth or the next that can change that.” He’s never been good at giving advice and Adam feels even rustier than usual at making people realize that they are no longer actually alive. “You’re dead. You don’t just get to be alive again.”

“Wait. What. No, I can’t be  _ dead _ , if I’m dead then how am I talking to you?”

“I am Death. How much did you have to drink?” It’s a grim question considering what his particular vices are.

“I--I can’t remember. I don’t feel drunk, though. You’re not Death. You’re just a creepy dude--” She rolls her eyes hard, scoffs, and then tries to run away. She gets about two feet before realizing she can’t go any further. “Ugh, what the hell?”

Fuck. It’s gonna be one of  _ those  _ days, isn’t it? 

“You can’t just bail on dying either. Sorry. Doesn’t work like that.” Adam doesn’t think he's been called creepy before, but there is a first time for everything. “Please. I know this sucks, but you can’t stay here like this. If you think  _ I’m  _ bad. Worse things happen if you try and run away.” He hadn’t realized it before, but the thought of Kenny showing up here makes him want to bail even if that’s not possible.

“Okay, well… if I am dead, what do you need me to do?”

“Hold my hand for like ten seconds. You have to take the next step. I don’t know what that means for you, what’s beyond this point, but you have to go.” Bad explanation, but it’s all he’s got. It’s all he’s ever had. He doesn’t have an innate sense for this and no one ever gave him instructions so he uses vagaries.

“Wait. But there’s so much I have left to do like… I never saw the Grand Canyon. I… need to tell my mom I’m sorry. I can’t just. No! I can’t!”

The sound of a motorcycle roars down the street before coming to a stop in an empty space about twenty feet away from where Hangman and the shade are, and he feels a kind of tingling anxiety drip down his spine.

It’s been a week and a handful of days since he last saw Kenny Omega, but he didn’t forget about the sensation being around Vengeance gives him. “Dammit! I told you that you can’t stay here! You’ll become something worse if you do. You won’t be yourself anymore and you’ll forget about your family or why you even decided to stay. I’m telling you… you’ve gotta go. Now.”

“Bossing around a shade, Death? Or do you just want to get rid of her because she’s  _ inconvenient _ ?” Kenny takes his helmet off, revealing his pink and blue-tipped blond curls. He extends a hand toward her as he walks up. “You said you had unfinished business, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I--” She looks between Adam and Kenny. “I wanna tell my mom I’m sorry.”

“Then come with me.” He smirks, holding the hand out further.

Adam wants to bolt. He feels himself crawling out of his skin even if that’s not technically possible. He’s not sure how he possibly thought he could just vanish and avoid seeing Kenny again, but it was a pipe dream for at least a week. “Go on.” It’s all he manages. 

“I--” She looks back at him, before stepping forward to take Kenny’s hand. He runs her back to his motorcycle, sliding on before she wraps her spectral arms around his back.

Kenny gives him a lazy two-fingered salute as he puts his helmet on. “Catch me if you can, cowboy,” he says with a laugh before revving the bike and speeding off. His and the shade’s absence immediately makes Adam feel panicked, like there’s something he’s forgotten to do before an important event.

Can he just do that? He’s got no desire to follow after, but his chest tells him differently. “Fuck me!” He growls out and kicks the parking meter next to him in frustration. Thankfully he’s still got his magic weird Death shroud around him so no one can see him.

Why does Kenny always make him feel like he’s got no control? It’s the reason he… distanced himself in the first place. Losing himself is one thing he can  _ deal _ with this on his own terms, but the very real feeling of not only being responsible for someone else but having their very existence weaved into yours has been impossible to process. He thought getting distance would help. He thought Cody would help. But no. Now he’s back at square one with a raw ache in his chest and no one he can blame but himself.

Adam realizes, as he slumps back to his pickup truck dejectedly, that there’s a glowing blue trail of energy where Kenny’s motorcycle sped away, almost like some of the shade is leaking off her.  _ Fuck _ . What the fuck kind of weird powers does Vengeance even have, that he’s able to do this? Break all the rules and get away with it? Turn Adam’s world upside down? Miami probably would’ve done that itself eventually, but it’s all way too much. 

Suddenly, Adam very much does feel like crying from the weight of it all pressing in on him.

But he can’t. He’s already done that. Embarrassed himself by melting down on the side of the road and then  _ again _ by childishly ignoring the issue staring him in the face for a week. He starts the ignition and nearly slams his truck into drive before taking off to follow Kenny’s ghostly trail.

The glowing line takes him away from the bustling clubs and museums of Miami Beach, full of partiers even in the middle of the day, to low-slung shops, to irregular houses along narrow streets, the landscape dotted with vegetation and chain-link fencing. The end of the trail, and Kenny’s motorcycle, comes in front of a neat and tidy Spanish-style apartment complex, the bright orange stucco, lines of tile mosaic, and green iron railings looking inviting even if the landscaping could use a little maintenance.

He could and  _ should  _ wait out in his truck for them to come back, the panic in his chest subsiding now that he’s close again. Then again, he’s got no idea what he’s doing or what he’s telling her. Vengeance is unpredictable at the best of times… though some little voice in the back of his head tells him he shouldn’t worry. He did tell her to go with him after all. This is what he’s supposed to be doing. 

Even so, curiosity--and the magnetic draw of Vengeance and Kenny Omega--has him putting the truck in park before he can even really think about what he’s doing, and locking up before walking towards the building.

He walks slowly up the stairs, trying and probably failing to be quiet even though he can hear a loud conversation emanating from inside one of the apartments. Adam can take a few guesses about what kind of conversation it is. Reconciling with dying isn’t an easy thing to do.

It surprises him, then, to see Kenny sitting on the landing at the top of the stairs, with the shade bent over him, quietly dictating a letter as the avatar of Vengeance writes.

“I know you told me to be careful, mom. You told me a lot of things, but I didn’t listen. And I’m sorry. I was young, and I was stupid, and I couldn’t see that you were only trying to take care of me. I don’t know if I’m going to get to see you again where I’m going but… I just needed to tell you before I left. Thank you for everything. Love, your little chickadee, Anne.”

“A-N-N?” Kenny asks gently.

“An E at the end.”

“Got it. Tell me how that looks.” The leather of Kenny’s jacket creaks as he holds the letter up for her to read it.

Adam isn’t sure what to think. Or what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. He leans against the railing on the steps and just watches. She’d been so standoffish with him. Which was probably his fault, but what isn’t these days? 

“Yeah, that… that looks okay. I wish she’d been home so I could tell her myself,” the shade says with a sigh as Kenny folds up the note and slides it under the door.

“Well… it’s probably better this way. I don’t know how she’d react to seeing a ghost. Or if she even could talk to you. Now, I don’t know if I can get you all the way to the Grand Canyon… but something tells me that wasn’t what you needed to do anyway, as far as unfinished business.”

“No. I… I probably never woulda made it out there anyways.”

“Not everybody does. So don’t feel bad. Okay?” Kenny gives her a smile, eyes hidden by his aviators. But it looks warm. “I got the idea you have a big journey ahead of you anyway.”

Well. Adam feels like an idiot. Or at least an impatient asshole. Yeah… that sounds about right. For just about everything that’s happened over the past few weeks. He stays quiet, unsure if he’s been spotted or not. He won’t interrupt. He’s already been rude as it is.

“You ready to go?” Kenny stands up and dusts his pants off as the shade thinks.

“Yeah. I think I am.”

“Then give me your hand. I’ll be right here, the whole time. Okay?”

The shade nods, still a little hesitant, before placing her small, indistinct hand in Kenny’s bigger one. He holds her for a few seconds, before she fades away… as does the panic in Adam’s chest.

He takes a deep breath when he feels it ebb away and then another as he contemplates saying anything at all, fighting the instinct to just slink away like he’d never seen a thing. But he just stays rooted in his spot. Made it look easy.

Kenny almost runs into him going down the stairs, and calls out a quick “Oh, sorry,” as he pulls back, before realizing who he’s looking at. “Oh. So you did follow me. Heh.” A sad little smile. “Didn’t think you actually would, for some reason.”

“You made all that look easy.” Adam finally says quietly, not being able to shake the thought from his mind. 

“What do you mean?” Kenny’s forehead furrows around his aviators.

“Talking her down. Getting her to go. Helping her. I’m not good at it, but you seem to be.” Adam gets the feeling he’s not so good at anything these days. 

“Oh, I don’t know, I just… she seemed scared and I just tried to think about what I’d do in that scenario.” He presses his lips together for a second before following up with a thought he’s clearly a bit worried about voicing. “She said you just kinda scared her. Told her death sucked and made her look at her corpse. Is that… something you usually do? Because if so… that’s really fucked up.”

“No. It’s not.” The guilt feels like lead in his gut. “Death does suck. But I’m not…” he stops himself. “Look. I’m the last guy that should be explaining to you that I’m not some sort of heartless asshole. Case in point literally everything I’ve done that I don’t have an excuse for.” Adam wipes his eyes quickly as he feels the sting of tears. “I’m so bad at all this it’s not even funny.”

“Well.” Kenny just looks at him, whatever is in his eyes hidden by the sunglasses as his curls blow in the Florida breeze. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Yeah. No one ever does. Not lookin’ for anything or fishin’ for a response. It’s not an excuse, but it’s a reason I guess. So. Sorry for fuckin’ it up. All of it.” Adam blinks back tears that threaten to spill again before rubbing at his nose quickly before grabbing his keys from his pocket.

“Adam. I appreciate you trying to take this all on yourself or whatever, but I’m the one that fucked it up. I mean, if I was one hundred percent myself I probably wouldn’t have, but… some part of me wanted to get a rise out of you, and I did. It’s just so frustrating to see you--” Kenny frowns, and then sniffs. “Do you smell like… blood?”

Adam crinkles his nose. “No?” He’s self-conscious for a second, patting his shirt to make sure he’s not actually bleeding before realizing that he let Cody drink one last time before he left.

“No, not like… you’re bleeding. Like… you bled. Or like you drank blood? But that doesn’t make any sense…” Kenny comes closer to him.

“Oh. Uh. I know some vampires that are in a pinch. I’ve been trying to help them out.” Adam feels itchy, but he’s not exactly telling a lie and he’s not about to tell Kenny that he’s been recreationally drinking vampire blood. It sounds just as bad as he thought it would.

“You aren’t lying to me, are you? Please tell me that’s all that it is. Because… something seems off about you.” Adam notices then that Kenny is keeping his distance, like his breath stinks from drinking too much Wild Turkey and Everclear.

“What are you talking about? I’m fine.” Or at least he thinks he’s fine, but for some reason now he’s not so sure. “I haven’t been home. I’ve been staying with a friend… who,  _ yes _ , happens to be a vampire. It’s been a bad week.”

“Is that--you know what, nevermind. What you do in your own time is your business. It’s not like there’s anything between you and me anyhow. Now, if you wouldn’t mind stepping out of the way so I can get back to my  _ bike _ , please…”

“What do you want me to say?” Adam feels that frustration he’s usually so good at pushing down bubble up and over. “What have you been telling me? Not to push down all my fuckin’ issues? Well… then, fine. Ran out of whiskey so I dosed up on vampire blood. That what you wanted to hear?”

“You--you  _ what _ ? Adam, you--”

“Yeah, I’m a piece of shit. What do you want? You didn’t want me to lie to you so there. I didn’t. Now you can walk away and feel good about it.”

“Adam, I never wanted--I want to  _ help  _ you! But I can’t help you if you’re just going to destroy yourself and piss off ghosts! I told you last time and I was being honest, but, I don’t know what you want me to do. It’s almost like you want a reason to hate me.”

“Do. Do you want to hate me? Do you want to be mad at me, too? So you can have someone else to blame?” Kenny growls. “Fine. You made me feel like shit when you didn’t answer any of my texts or show up at your house, and I was a fucking mess. So I slept with my best friend. And if you want to hate me, ohhhh, if you  _ really _ want someone to be a worse piece of shit than you? I’ll  _ keep _ sleeping with my best friend, because at least he cares about me as a person and not a hole he can fuck!” Kenny shoves past him.

“Hate  _ you!? _ You think I hate you? You can see so much shit, but you can’t see how much I hate myself? I feel like I’m gonna fucking collapse, man! Maybe I already did, but I can probably go further and do worse and then maybe someone will finally let  _ me _ die.” Adam feels like he’s about to fall over.. He’s never said that out loud to someone before. That he’s thought about  _ that _ in his worst moments. He doesn’t even care that Kenny slept with someone else.

Kenny stops, three steps down from him. “Adam… I’m sorry. I… I don’t know what to say, except… I don’t know how to help you, if you won’t let me. If you keep avoiding me. And I’m tired of fighting you to let me in.” The other man lets out a rasping, slightly manic laugh. “I want to help, but… I can’t. Not like this. Not when all we do is hurt each other. Not when all you do is run away.” A tear falls down the other man’s cheek, and it’s clear his aviators are fogging from the inside out. “I don’t think I can handle you running away again.”

“I told you I didn’t want you to get mixed up with this. With me. I’ve never told anyone what I said to you just now.” Adam has to sit down because the heat and his emotions feel like they are getting the better of him. The thought of Kenny walking away so overwhelming he can’t think straight. “I don’t want to be like this anymore… I don’t know how to stop.”

“Have you ever tried… medication? Going to a doctor? I know that there’s,” Kenny makes a shrugging gesture, “all of this, but there’s got to be someone that can help. I mean,  _ really _ help, because… I don’t know where we go from here. And as much as I want to, I don’t have a magic button that can solve depression or whatever. Hell, I can’t even solve mine.”

They’re both quiet for a moment, and the distant din of the argument down a flight of stairs is almost comforting, in a weird way.

“I don’t know. This isn’t on you.” Adam feels like he’s reached some sort of breaking point, but now there is no one to help pick the pieces off the ground. “I’ve got medication. I’ve…. been bad about it. You don’t need to hear about it.” Turns our life doesn’t stop even if you’re the corporeal form of Death. It’s ironic. 

“You should be better about it. Even if… even if us isn’t a… a Thing, I get the feeling we’re still going to run into each other. Have to work together. And. I do like seeing you happy. Or at least. Not totally hating your life. Though that should be a given. So, when you want to work together again… well. You know where I live. I’ll be there.” Kenny turns and starts walking down the steps again.

Even though it’s muted through the haze of anger and sadness and… probably more than a little vampire blood, Adam feels once again a shadow of that electricity between he and Kenny.

“Until then… I guess we’ll keep running into each other or whatever it is that, you know. Happens when we’re taking care of souls.” Kenny smiles sadly at him before walking down to his bike, putting on his helmet, and then he drives away and out of Adam’s life.


	9. Black Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback, a flash-forward, and a tying of loose ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another playlist! This time for this chapter's [introductory scene](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7BIUmQXgrhGVYlrh5JmYSt?si=MvZy2dYET5y09HPV9yoh_Q) (as well as any other dark deeds you might want to engage in)
> 
> I also updated the map, and added the links for it and the playlists to the beginning of the fic. I've been updating the playlists with new songs too, hope they give some good Florida tropical vibes. <3 - quantum

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 9: Black Magic**

\--

Months before any bodies, before Death, before Vengeance… the dull roar of an excited crowd overtakes the woman as soon as she steps out of the car. Beyond them, down Ocean Drive, the clubs are already alive in a rainbow of colors. Then again, the party never really stops here. She never saw so many people in one place before she came to Miami, but she’s on a mission and she was prepared for this kind of crowd. She can  _ do this _ . 

She smiles reassuringly at her female +1, pulling the other woman closer on her arm even as she tries to hide the nervousness in her smile. Her date for the night is young, and even more nervous than she is, overwhelmed by the crush of people.

People fight to get in; for a second her date looks nervous, but the woman pats her on the arm with her free hand. They slide up to the bouncer checking the guest list, and the woman flashes the signet ring on her free hand with a smile.

The bouncer rushes to get out of the way, and the woman and her date slide into the club that’s throbbing with life. They get through the door onto the dancefloor, and there’s as many lights inside as out, if not more. The bass pounds against the walls in a sinister pulls, and screens flicker with abstract symbols and remixed videos in time with it. Someone walks past with a tray of drinks and the woman ignores them, but her date happily grabs a glass of free champagne.

Oh well. Before the night is over, it won’t matter anyway.

The woman makes a show of dancing with her date, though she watches her watch carefully. An hour after she arrives, she goes up to the DJ booth, and requests the song she’d picked out just for this occasion. 

She and her date dance, people trying to pull them away from each other, but the woman keeps pulling them back together. Her date laughs, carefree and flattered. Then the song ends, and she drags her +1 into the bathroom with her, kissing her lips, her cheek, her neck, as they slide into an open stall.

The woman reaches into the hidden pocket in her dress as they kiss. She’d learned how to make a knife from plastic on Youtube; slim enough that it would fit into her purse, pass through the metal detectors.

But a knife is a knife, and it’s sharp enough to cut through flesh.

As the warm blood spills all over her hands and drips into the toilet below, the woman briefly regrets killing her date. She’s never killed before. But in that moment, a strange sense of calm takes over her as she uses it to trace a sigil in the ground. She says a few quiet words as she traces it, and though nothing visible happens, she feels the power of the ritual surge through her.

She licks her knife and steps back onto the dance floor, grabbing the first person she sees by the shirt lapels, and she kisses him deep, filling his mouth with blood from the knife. The thought makes her warm from her chest all the way down, but she can’t think about that too much now. The night is still young. As she watches the chaos of the nightclub unfold, the dancers on the floor forming an unholy sigil, she smiles. The hellmouth is opening, and it’s  _ beautiful _ .

It feels so good to be a rebel.

\--

It takes at least a week for Adam to really take what Kenny says to heart, most of which he spends trying to quit drinking and failing. It isn't until he looks at the texts Cody's sent him, wondering where Adam is, and if there's been any changes in their 'situation,' that Adam finally hits rock bottom, smashing his last bottle of Jack against the wall and crying.

And then he goes to a psychiatrist for the first time in a about a year, and a therapist. He starts taking his medicine, in more ways than one. 

The docs say it’ll take a couple weeks to start working. To trust the process. It makes him so impatient, stewing in his condo, knowing Kenny’s probably across the hall. He finishes all the TV he’d had queued up on Netflix. He continues to get death signs, and tries to be a little bit more like Kenny when the bodies don’t have the life sucked out of them.

_ Those  _ cases, the bad ones, are getting more frequent. It’s worrying, but he’s trying to not be anxious about it. One step at a time, one foot in front of the other. It’s got to work like this. There is no other way forward that doesn’t lead back to where he’d been previously. So he just does what he needs to do. Keeps a low profile and keeps his nose to the grindstone. 

A month passes.

Adam makes an Instagram account. His therapist suggested keeping a photo journal of some sort. He doesn’t follow anyone, but he uses it to upload pictures of palm trees… sunsets… whatever makes him happy. It’s nice.

One day he logs in to post a picture of a palmetto he took outside his condo on a morning run, and he sees some familiar faces in the Recommended account area. A picture of two buff young men at the gym, smiling as they flex with each other.

“Oh, what the hell,” he says, before opening a DM to them. 

It’s awkward at first, but Adam knows that he needs to just do something different. He doesn’t know what’s more different than trying to form friendships with people he wouldn’t even have thought about previously. And certainly not with people he might have had bad blood with before. He does this for himself. 

It goes better than he thought it would.

Eventually, he’s working out with them, which is good because he hadn’t even noticed how much of a beer gut he’d put on until they take his measurements as a benchmark.

He’s a little embarrassed, but it’s nothing he doesn’t work past. With no more beer in the house, he doesn’t have to worry about moving backwards when he’s not with Matt and Nick. Who, counter to what he thought previously, are pretty good guys. Demons or not. Saturday is a cheat day, so he takes donuts over to their apartment early in the morning.

“Hey, Adam, come on in bud,” Matt says with a smile, purple skin and horns on display. Adam had said he would be comfortable with it in the brothers’ own house, and it’s still a little weird but… he has to accept that this is his life sooner or later.

And he has to admit… he can see now why he and Kenny… yeah. It’s a good look for him.

Nick’s lounging on the couch, half-asleep with a cup of coffee on the coffee table. “Hey, Nicholas!” Matt calls to him. “Page is here and he brought donuts.”

“Buh. Whu? Donuts?”

“Donuts. Jelly, cake and there are some cream-filled ones too.” Adam smiles and rolls his eyes a little. “Though if you’re too tired I can take them back home.” 

“No. You bring those damn donuts over here right now,” Nick says with a commanding voice and a snarl, before bursting into laughter.

“Fuck, man.” Adam laughs too before sliding the donuts onto the coffee table right in front of Nick and melting onto the couch. He’s been good about sleeping lately, but that doesn’t mean he’s not still bone-tired from trying to occupy all of his time with something. “Even half-asleep the donuts call to you.” 

“Listen, cheat day is cheat day for a reason. And since it’s just us three… there’s no one with a  _ sweet tooth _ to steal all the goods.” Nick reinforces his point by grabbing a chocolate-covered boston cream.

A month after their confrontation, Adam still doesn’t know what he should feel when Kenny is brought up. He tries to play it cool as always, but his curiosity gets the better of him this time. “Is Kenny… doing okay?”

Matt throws a Look to Nick, and Nick looks briefly guilty but shrugs.

“Kenny’s, uh, he’s doing okay, you know,” Matt says, looking at Adam now. “He’s been working with someone on some stuff. Some kind of big project to bring some good to Miami. He doesn’t want to talk much about it, but it… seems like things are working out?”

“He’s eating regularly,” Nick adds.

“Yep, he  _ is  _ doing that.”

“Sorry to bring him up.” Nick swallows the last of his donut down with a sip of coffee. “I know he’s probably a sore subject and all that.” 

“No, no. It’s just good to hear that he’s doing okay. I’m trying to work on my shit and usually that means just being as busy as possible.” Overly so sometimes. But at least he’s got some abs to show for it now. Not that anyone is looking. Or even noticing. “I’ve seen him go in and out of his place a couple of times, but I’ve been trying to keep my distance.”

“That’s good. Healthy. At least, I think so,” Matt says. “No matter what weird supernatural connection’s between you, you gotta take things at your own pace, you know? It’s just like with working out. You can’t do a one-fifty kilo deadlift on day one.”

Adam rubs at his face for a few seconds before he grabs a donut from the box. “As long as everyone is doing as okay as they can be. That’s all that matters.” He's been trying to be more positive about things, even if he still grounds it all in reality. This is still Miami and there is still so much going on it makes his head spin. It’s just… having friends helps. More than he thought it ever would.

“Yeah, I… I think Kenny having a purpose has helped him. And. I mean, same for you, right?” Matt gestures up and down at him. “I mean, look at you, you look  _ amazing _ , if I do say so myself.”

“Not that we had anything to do with it.”

“Nooo.”

Adam laughs again, half a donut in his mouth so he covers it with his hand. “Listen.” He manages with a mouth full. “I didn’t think anyone was looking, but thanks. It’s helped. Can't say it’s anything compared to Nick’s abs or your biceps.” He reaches forward to give Matt’s arm a playful squeeze.

Both of the brothers’ purple skin glows a little brighter. “Well, of course not,” Matt says just as playfully as he looks over at Adam. “But you’re doing pretty good regardless.”

“You ass.” Adam smiles again and it feels good. Having  _ friends _ feels good. Especially ones that he doesn’t have to keep things from. “Also do you get like all tingly when someone does that? I’m not like accidentally doin’ something lewd, when I compliment you, right?” 

“No, no, it’s like… ASMR,” Matt reassures him with a smile.

“It can be lewd,” Nick adds. “Just like anything can, if you’re into someone.”

“But it doesn’t have to be.”

“Good to know I’m not like giving you a weird boner when I say stuff like that.” Adam wipes the non-existent sweat off of his brow comically. Though he will admit to himself that… demonic or not, there’s something more magnetic about the brothers than just their good looks. Which reminds Adam… “So, Instagram. How’d that all happen?”

“Oh, well, funny story about that--” Matt starts, before Nick interrupts.

“Instagram was our idea, but, uh, pretty sure it happened the way it did because of the hellmouth. You know, purple is pride, I guess? So we’re like. Pride demons now. And that kinda draws people to our profiles.”

“So what? You just… started turning into demons because you made an Instagram account?” Adam reaches over to grab Nick’s coffee to take a sip. “Talk about a metaphor for consumerism.”

\--

Like any old habit. Once you start again, it’s easy to just let it slink back into your life like it never left. Jon’s hands don’t twitch anymore when he doesn’t have nicotine and the acute ache in his shoulder from having a knife buried in it ages ago doesn’t make him want to grab a bottle of whiskey quite as much anymore. But Eddie. He’s never been able to quit Eddie. He’s just like any addiction. Jon is pretty sure the other man knows it too.

“Mornin’, Mox,” Eddie says, rolling over beside Jon in bed, voice hoarse from just having woken up. “You got a light?”

Mox laughs under his breath and leans down to grab his lighters out of his discarded shorts pocket. He flips the zippo open and slides his thumb along the metal to spark the light. “Yeah. You got one of those for me?”

“Course.” Eddie grabs his pack from the side of the bed with one hand and taps it against the headboard until one shakes out enough for him to offer it to Jon with a wink. “Five-star service.”

“Look at that. I’ll remember to leave a nice review.” He slides the cigarette out and lights it when he gets it between his lips. Jon watches Eddie do the same and exhales smoke through his nose before leaning close and lighting Eddie’s as well. 

Of course his phone chirps and buzzes somewhere under the mass of covers, ruining the moment.

“Mmn,” Eddie says noncommittally before inhaling and leaning back in bed to exhale. “You goin’ off and workin’ with that other guy again today, Whasisname? Kent?”

“Kenny.” Jon corrects before rubbing at his beard. “Yeah. Gettin’ a chance to talk to the dead isn’t a chance I’m gonna pass up. Only way to get the bigger picture.” He leans back against the pillows, searching the blankets for his discarded phone.

“Even if they’re angry dead people? That really such a good idea?” Eddie moves to help him, shuffling through the sheets.

“Kenny’s more than what he seems. Spirit of Vengeance or something like that. Wildest shit I’ve seen in a long time and I’ve seen a lot. Keeps the ghosts in line.” Or at least that’s what he’s figured out. “Think I’d let a pissed-off ghost take me out? That's your job, isn’t it?” 

Eddie just laughs hard and sudden, clearly surprised by the joke, until he starts coughing on the smoke. “ _ Jesus _ , Mox. Warn a guy next time, will ya?”

Jon smiles around his own cigarette before he finally finds his phone. “Not on your life.”

“You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” Eddie smiles at him, lips twisting laconically around his cigarette before he ashes it in the coffee mug sitting on the nightstand.

“I know. But you fucked me last night anyway.” Jon laughs again, but doesn’t remove the cigarette from his lips. He’s gotten a text from Kenny already and it’s not even noon.

“What can I say? I’m a sucka for a man with a sicko smile.” He grabs Jon’s cheek, hard enough to hurt a little, something he’s done since they were kids. “Hey, how’d you land this place, anyway? Doesn’t quite seem like your, uh, kinda scene, and hunters aren’t exactly known for dealin’ in real estate...”

“I got a demon livin’ in my head that likes to see me have nice things. Sounds fucked, but it’s the truth.”

“Huh.” Eddie blows air through his lips. “Not the worst thing that can happen if you’re gonna be possessed, I guess? Anyway, sounds like you got a text from ya boy, so I better get outta here before I overstay my welcome. We should do this again, heh.” Eddie rolls over to press a kiss to the side of Jon’s beard before rolling back over and out of bed to look for his pants.

“Don’t be a stranger. I still got all those damn books you owe me.” Jon calls before he opens his phone and calls Kenny’s number. 

“Yeah, yeah. Even magic can’t make mail come faster, brotha.” Eddie waves him off before grabbing his wallet and phone, and heading out.

“Heeeeeello,” Kenny’s voice is radio-smooth on the phone. “You didn’t have to call, you weirdo.”

“Yeah, well, I’m callin’. You were up early enough to text me at 8am. What the fuck were you doin’?”

“Well, turns out dead bodies can turn up at any time of day, not just the convenient hours. In fact--”

“Oh, fuck off, Kenneth.” Jon growls, but it’s half a laugh. It appears the Spirit of Vengeance has a sense of humor, a twisted one at that sometimes, but it’s the weirdness of Kenny Omega that keeps Jon on his toes. He feels like he’s learning something new every time they go out together.

“There’s no ‘Kenneth.’ It’s just Kenny. It isn’t short for anything, asshole. Anyway. What’s the plan for today? Is there a plan?”

“The plan is I get my ass out of bed and get a cup of coffee. You have breakfast yet?” Jon peels his comforter off of him finally and ashes his cigarette before putting it back between his lips. He grabs his boxer briefs off the floor and sniffs them before tossing them in the laundry pile.

“Define… ‘breakfast.’”

“Eggs, bacon, waffles, pancakes, hell, French toast if you’re into it.” Jon fishes a new pair of underwear out of his dresser. “I’m asking if you want to eat breakfast.” Who’s the weirdo now? 

“Okay, sure, I can always abandon this pre-workout I was gonna drink for some omelette, ah, du  _ fromage _ .”

“I swear to god…” Jon stops himself from cursing. “Just meet me at the Waffle House off 441 sooner rather than later. We’ll go from there.”

“See ya there,” Kenny chirps before hanging up with a click.

And to think. Jon passed up a morning fuck to go do this. At least Kenny Omega is damn good to look at. 

— 

The moment Jon walks in, Kenny starts stroking his chin. The man is like a real-life cartoon sometimes, but it’s not like Jon has any room to talk about eccentricities.

“Glad to see you made it.” He grumbles under his breath, sliding into a booth and shaking the urge for another cigarette.

“Why do I feel like I’ve seen you here before? I  _ know _ this is our first time doing breakfast together--wait. Can you do me a favor and… walk out that door again?”

“What?” Jon gives him a blank stare. “You want me to get up and walk back in here? Because you have deja vu or something?” 

“Please?”

Jon grits just teeth and takes a deep breath before he slides back out of the booth and and heads back out the door. He puts his head in his hands for a second as the sticky mid morning air hits him again, before turning on his heel and walking back in, the bell chiming on the door. “Satisfied?” When he arrives back at the table. 

“I knew it! I  _ knew  _ they were being weird that night! You ate dinner here and then busted out like a bat out of hell like a month ago, right?” Kenny’s blue eyes are bright with the light of discovery, seemingly oblivious that the hostess is staring at him like he’s grown a second head. 

“I fuckin’ eat dinner here a lot, you’re gonna have to be more specific. It’s open 24 hours a day for a damn reason. I’m gonna take advantage of it.” Jon is grateful when the smell of coffee wafts into his nose, the waitress pours him a cup without saying a word. “What are you on about, Omega?”

“Nothing, never mind, don’t worry about it,” Kenny says distractedly, pulling out his phone and texting someone furiously.

He shouldn’t ask questions, it usually just always leaves him with more. “You know what I don’t get?” He takes a slow sip of his coffee. “How you’ve been doing this for months now and a few weeks ago was the first I’d ever heard of The Spirit of Vengeance.”

“Yeah, there were some, uh, hiccups. To the whole process.” Kenny whisks his phone away and smiles brightly at Jon.

“Fill me in on those hiccups? I’m tryin’ to write all this shit down so if someone else needs something they have a book to look at.” Maybe it sounds stupid, but he figured it was a good idea… at least to pass down something once he’s gone. Whatever that means. 

“Writing a book about me? I’m flattered.  _ Well _ . It all started when I accidentally touched my hot neighbor.” His tone is sarcastic--it’s like Kenny’s always wearing some kind of mask around Jon. Whether that’s this ‘Vengeance’ thing or not. He’s not going to dig further, he doesn’t need or want to. People show you who they want to show you. He does the same thing. 

“No.” Jon deadpans. “I assure you I’ve seen a lot weirder shit than you out there.”

“Fine, you’re no fun sometimes. Anyway. I had a weird seizure, he ghosted me--metaphorically--and then like a week later I got a weird headache and we ended up at a body killed by a werewolf, and I was uh, engulfed in flames and anger as I burned the werewolf alive. But, see, here’s the thing. Initially, it wanted to just be its own thing… but I think some of that is because I’d tried to cut the angry part of me out, right? Guys are supposed to control their anger. Not be that person. Well, that didn’t work out so good for me. And eventually, I guess Death decided to take over Adam and fix that for me, but not for him. But I get this feeling we’re supposed to be working together? But that hasn’t really happened yet. We’ve kind of been… cleaning up each others’ messes without talking to each other. He’s got a lot of shit to figure out. On the like, normal human side, that is. So I’ve been trying to do the Vengeance thing my way, with less murdering.”

“So you’re like… what? On a break with a reaper?” This is the most Kenny has talked about anything involving things that happened or happen when he’s not around. It’s not like he’s got any vested interest, but something in his gut tells him the key to all of this is putting  _ all  _ the pieces together. 

“Something like that. Dude was… kind of a mess. A hot mess, but, you know.” Kenny’s trying to play it off, but it’s obvious there’s something more serious underneath.

“Yeah I know. Seems like you’re kinda not over it.” Jon points out, still clutching his cup of coffee. “And if you’re saying this shit is still disjointed, how do I know a reaper that’s sunken pretty low isn’t to blame for all this going on.”

“No, there’s--there’s no way this is him. You of all people should know that just because there’s a lot of  _ shit _ going on in your life, it doesn’t make you a monster!” Kenny had started to yell and stand up, but looks around sheepishly when he realizes, and slides back into the booth with shoulders hunched. “No. With all the demons and werewolves and all that shit? No way it’s him.”

“You don’t always know someone the way you think you do.” Jon is still staring at him. “And honestly, sounds like maybe you ought to check in with him. Speaking from experience, doesn’t much help walking away from someone when they need your help. Whatever that  _ help _ ends up being.”

“I told him to come find me. And. I hear he’s doing just fine without me,” Kenny says sadly, looking down at the laminated menu and fiddling with the edges. The mask--the bravado--has slipped. “He wouldn’t let me help him, so I told him to get help. He wasn’t going to let me fix things. He was the one who kept walking away from me.”

“Maybe it’s just because I’m a bastard, but are you really gonna rely on someone’s second hand information?” Jon pinches the bridge of his nose. “You still gonna be bitter about things if he’s doing what you asked him to do? I ain’t good at this, just for the record, but if he didn’t give a shit he wouldn’t have taken your advice.”

“I’m not--” Kenny scoffs at him, throwing his hands up. “I’m not  _ bitter _ . Jesus, Jon.”

“Maybe you’re not. But you’re gonna get there if you don’t check it. Thing about dudes who let all that anger build up… it’s gonna come back up one way or another.” He should know.

Kenny holds his gaze for a second, worrying at his lip before dropping his eyes just enough so he’s no longer breaking eye contact. “I just… you know what, never mind. You’re not gonna understand.” Kenny shakes his head and looks back at the menu.

“Try me.” Jon moves his hand across the table, grabbing Kenny’s. “If you want this to work, gotta be honest. I shoot straight. You’ll never hear any bullshit from me.”

Kenny’s head jumps up, as if shocked, and Jon knows at that moment that he’s someone who touch matters a lot to. “Fine. It’s stupid, considering I barely know him, but… I love him. And I don’t care, if he loves me back, I.  _ Just _ … I need him to choose me if he does. Because he already left me once.” A pause. “I lost… my soulmate, the love of my  _ life _ . He died… he’s never coming back, okay? He left one day, I was upset, and I didn’t even get to say goodbye. If Adam left me again…” Golden and pastel curls shake with the other man’s head, but he doesn’t pull his hand away, instead using his other hand to wipe away tears. “I don’t know what that means for Death and Vengeance, and honestly I don’t give a fuck. I know  _ Kenny _ couldn’t handle that. Because I know despite everything, I’m still a man.” He takes a shuddering gasp. “Hell, that’s the  _ only _ thing I know.”

Jon tightens his grip a little. “Keep that. Right there. Keep that fire inside of you that knows who you are. Don’t lose it to the supernatural shit this place is swimming in. I ain’t gonna tell you how to live your life, but I will tell you that you gotta think about you and then everyone else. You seem like a nice guy, maybe too nice. Don’t let people twist that.” 

“Trust me,” Kenny says with absolute sincerity and conviction--in a way that tells him he and Jon have something in common. “I will  _ never _ forget that I am a man before anything else.”

“Good. Now be a man and tell him what you just told me.” Jon says honestly. He’s never bought into keeping things inside, that it somehow made you better or stronger. He’s seen it destroy people. If you don’t have honesty, emotional or otherwise, you don’t have anything. He won’t ever forget that again.

“Well, first I’m gonna order a fucking pecan waffle.”

\--

“He wants to play Street Fighter,” Kenny wails into the speakerphone, resisting the urge to fiddle with the knot of the t-shirt tied up over his drying hair.

“And? Is there more to the story here, bud? You sound like someone just told you that you only have 24 hours left to live. If Page is ready to say hi, he’s ready to say hi. You love video games.” Matt tells him, voice level just like always.

“But… what if I screw up? What if that’s like, I don’t know, a secret code to mean that he actually wants to move on? You know I’m not good with people, Matt,” Kenny flicks through the workout supplement and nerdy t-shirts hanging in his closet, trying to find the perfect one for the occasion… one that says ‘I’m happy to spend time with you’ but not ‘I’m as desperate as Romeo but actually half as charming.’

“I can tell you that that absolutely isn’t a secret code.” Matt sighs, but it’s fond and despite everything it gives Kenny a little relief. “The only reason Page knows what Street Fighter is is because of you. He’s not gonna ask you to do this if he doesn’t want to. He’s actually a pretty straightforward guy when he’s not dealing with crippling anxiety.”

“Okay. Okay, so… should I wear bi colors Redcon1, or the Midnight Channel tank you said makes my shoulders look really good?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking me this. Wear the tank top, dude. Flaunt what you got—you should have known that would have been my answer.”

“Okay, okay. Speaking of flaunting… have you seen that AC guy again? I know he asked you if you wanted to go to some fight club thing the other day.”

“Adam Cole? He’s being a little weird, but no, I haven’t really thought about his offer. You know I’m not really into the typical Miami nightlife or whatever.”

“I don’t know, from the way you couldn’t stop talking about his jawline... I thought there might be something  _ there-eeee _ ,” Kenny teases. Really, he just wants to see Matt happy… but knows he isn’t going to be that person for him.

“Adam’s got a girlfriend. Or at least I think he does, I haven’t actually seen her. So… I can think someone is hot all I want, doesn’t mean it can go anywhere.”

Kenny sighs. “Well, I tried. I just wanna see you happy. But. Thanks for being there for me. I just… I don’t want to be the guy that takes advantage of that.”

“I knew what I was getting into. You just do what you gotta do. I’ll be here.”

“Okay, bud. Just... thank you. For everything.”

“Yeah. Don’t mention it.”

\--

Kenny hears the knock at the door and tries to swallow his anxiety quickly before opening it. “Adam! Hey.” He can’t help the legitimate eagerness that comes forth in his voice as he opens the door, but he finds once he opens it, he doesn’t know quite what to do with himself. Do they hug? Shake hands? Does he just step aside? Maybe he should step aside. No! Smile. Smiling’s good.

“Hey.” Adam smiles softly at him, raising his hand to wave just slightly, other hand jammed into the left pocket of his tattered jean shorts. “Hope it’s not a bad time or anything. I figured… Death Signs kinda lull in the middle of the week so…”

“Yeah, of course! Sure, come  _ right  _ in. Come  _ all  _ the way in!” Kenny makes a sweeping gesture into his condo.

Adam nods and gives him another smile before walking into Kenny’s condo and past him. Kenny shouldn’t be staring at him, but… he looks good. Just the perfect amount of stubble for his jawline, his black floral tanktop is a nice look on him, and Kenny can’t help as his eye is drawn to the moles on Adam’s collarbones as he walks past. A month doesn’t seem like a long time, but by the looks of it it was. 

“So, uh. Street Fighter. Got it all set up for you. Also got some snacks, some Diet Coke and sparkling water in the fridge, so uh, just help yourself. I’m sure you know where everything is by now, so you know. I’ll be over here on the couch. No rush.” He slides his hands in his pockets just to hide his nervousness, give them something to do.

“Kenny.” Adam looks at him and Kenny sees him take a deep breath of his own, like he’s fighting off his own anxiousness. “I really just wanted to say I’m sorry. Like all this is great. But… I think I just needed to say that.”

“For… for what?”

“Kenny…” Adam says his name again, maybe even softer this time. “Like everything.” He can tell Adam’s trying his best not to fidget as well.

“Hey.” Kenny stops and walks over to him. “I’m sorry too. And… maybe we can just do a… soft reset? I know I made some mistakes. And I said some things I’m not proud of.” He takes his right hand out of his pocket to offer it to Adam.

Adam looks at it for a moment, contemplating, before he pushes Kenny’s hand aside and just envelops him in a hug instead.

Kenny is surprised, but moans softly at the contact, just as electric as he remembered, and even more right. “I missed you,” he confesses softly as he finds his lips against Adam’s neck, kissing his soft, golden hair. 

Adam holds him tightly and they just stand there. 

“My life isn’t normal.” He says simply. “The more I tried to push back against all of this, the worse it got. I was a hypocrite… even if you weren’t always in the right either. I needed time to figure that out.”

Kenny sighs softly and squeezes Adam tighter. He remembers what Jon said but… he’s scared. What’s between them is too tender, like a freshly-healed wound, and he’s afraid to rip off the bandage. “And now?”

“Now.” Adam pulls back a little. “Now I just wanna try and live my life. Whatever that is, whatever that means. And… I want you to be part of it.”

Kenny gasps softly, and pulls back from him just enough to look Adam in the face. “I  _ want _ to be part of it.”

“Well. Then maybe we should do this right this time.” Adam pulls away, but a smile is tugging at his lips as he puts his hand out to Kenny for a handshake. “Hi. My name is Adam. I grew up in Virginia, I like whiskey too much for my own good, I hate marshmallows unless they are in those little rice crispy treat things and I am Death.”

“Um,” Kenny laughs nervously. “Nice to meet you, Adam. Hi, I’m Kenny. I grew up in Manitoba, Canada, and somehow I’m the weirdo who likes both sports  _ and  _ video games. Yeah, we exist. I, uh, spend too much time on Twitter and I don’t drink. I love junk food, and I have a motorcycle now. Oh, and I’m also the incarnation of Vengeance, which is maybe why I wanted a motorcycle so bad? Y’know, Ghost Rider.” Kenny smiles as he jokingly squeezes Adam’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you.” Adam can’t keep his laugh at bay as he shakes Kenny’s hand. “I uh… saw that in a movie I had queued up to watch over the last couple weeks and figured it was worth a shot if we were trying to start over.”

Kenny’s chest feels all warm at that, and he just can’t stop smiling. He could swear he feels every molecule of his skin vibrating. “Yeah?” Kenny wraps his other hand around Adam’s, and starts absently running his fingers along Adam’s.

“Did it work?” Adam scrunches his face up a little, like he’s bracing for impact or something else like that.

“Adam… you came back.” Kenny can’t help but smile, open and honest. “You had my heart in your hands right then.”

“Okay, okay. Who’s been watching too many romance movies? Me or you?”

Kenny sighs fondly. “I’m serious. You came back. I trusted you… and you did it. And… Matt and Nick say you’ve been doing really great. I mean you  _ look _ , pfft, really great.”

“Oh come on. It’s only been a month and you don’t have to compliment me. Let’s—sit down. Do you still want that Diet Coke?”

“Yeah. And I mean. Your shoulders just look really good? Yeah, I’ll go with that and you sit down. You’re the guest. I’ll get the Coke.”

“Before you go.” Adam grabs Kenny’s wrist and tugs him in gently for a kiss.

“Mmm,” Kenny pulls back enough just to say, “or we could just do this?” He brings a hand up to cup the side of Adam’s face.

“We could. But then I wouldn’t be able to kick your ass in Street Fighter. I’ve been practicing.”

“Ohhh, have you now. And to think, I thought I couldn’t love you more--”

Kenny stops. Fuck, he’d wanted to hold back on that, let things go slow, damn what Jon said--

“Might not say that after we’re done.” Adam pulls him forward again and kisses the corner of his mouth.

\--

Later that night in Miami, a bearded man in a sleek, silk smoking jacket raises a glass of wine to his beautiful wife. “Through sheer willpower, we’ve managed to leash monsters and gods, beloved. Everything is proceeding according to plan. Soon, all things will be yours.”

“I’ll toast to that.”


	10. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rebirth, a calm before the storm, and Gluttony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is lengthy! We wanted to take some time to focus more on Mox and Eddie, since we've just fallen in love with them. 
> 
> Thanks so much for your continued support! It means so much. Kudos and comments appreciated.

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 10: The Hunt**

\--

Adam Cole never thought he’d know what it would be like to shed your skin. 

It’s something that you shouldn’t have to know. Some sort of image reserved for a horror film; gory, stomach churning, but something he could turn off. Fiction.

Adam can’t turn this off. Even as his heart races a mile a minute. 

He doesn’t know how long it’s been, he hardly remembers the last thing he did before bones shifted and skin broke--blood in his mouth and teeth and under his fingernails that aren’t really even nails at all anymore. 

He’s been in the shower for what feels like an hour, shaking in his new skin. He hasn’t even looked at himself in reflection of the glass door. When he does, he knows it will be too real.

He jerks his head up when he hears someone walk into the bathroom. “Babe, I’ve been--” her voice echoes in his mind and his ears at the same time. “ _ LOOKING ALL OVER FOR YOU. IS SOMETHING WRONG? _ ”

“Britt…” Adam grits his teeth, bracing himself against the warm, bloody tile of the shower wall. “Don’t… look.”

_ Oh. So I can hear you like this now… interesting.  _ He can feel her smirk in his mind, even though he isn’t looking at her.  _ But… I’m sure you look so handsome, babe. Won’t you let me take just a little peek? _

He can’t even wrap his mind around what he’s hearing. Adam takes a shuddering breath. “You didn’t… you didn’t tell me this would happen.”

_ I told you you’d change. It’ll be worth everything in the end _ . “Can I come see you? I’ll make everything feel better,” Britt’s voice is warm and sweet like honey. “I can help you. I went through it too.”  _ Cheaper than plastic surgery.  _

Adam swallows hard before he shuts the water off, shivering before he presses a clawed hand to the steamy door, sliding it open and letting the water mingle with the residual blood dripping down into rivulets. “Yeah…” He feels her eyes bore into him. 

“Oh, you look so beautiful… you’ve just been reborn. No one gets born without a little bit of blood,” she coos, and her touch feels so good as she strokes her claws gently down his back. Her hand rests right above his brand-new tail, and her thumb rubs at the curve soothingly.

He hasn’t even looked at himself, he’s not sure if he can, but her words sound so soothing in his mind and to his still aching body. “I can’t really think straight.” He’s speechless for once in his damn life. It makes his head feel empty and full at the same time.

“Mmm, then don’t think. Come here,” she pulls him closer, rubbing up and down his back with one hand, and using the other to guide his head into her ample chest. “I used to be normal, boring… I still looked amazing, of course, but there are benefits to being reborn. You can become anything you want to be. It didn’t start as that, but… well, you’ll see. The pain is a small price to pay for getting anything you could want and feeling  _ amazing _ while doing it.”

_ Anything… _

The word rattles around in his head even if he can’t focus. He doesn’t know what it means for him, but the ambition burns in his guts. That’s what got him here in the first place. That’s why he’s  _ this  _ now. He can’t go back. The door is closed and something new has opened. 

—

“Okay,  _ that _ one I only lost because you’re distracting.” Kenny looks at Adam, blue eyes wide with joking energy. “You awful, handsome man, you. Luring me into a false sense of security!”

“Now you’re gonna blame me? Hey, maybe you’re the one who needs more practice. Practice with the game  _ and _ practice not getting too distracted.”

“I have been practicing. Though not as much as I would’ve liked, because some people thought it would be a good idea for me to leave my house.  _ Clearly _ that was a mistake.”

“They aren’t wrong, ya know?” Adam tells him, knowing full well what Kenny is getting at, even if it is a joke. “Getting out is good. I should know considering I spent like the first six months I was here going nowhere. You’ll get me next time. I assure you I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Well, as victor… what are your demands?” Kenny turns to him. “Unless you wanna go best two out of three.”

“I get demands?” Adam lays his controller on the table, the menu music playing softly in the background. 

“I mean, you should get  _ something _ for your first Street Fighter win, even if it was a lucky one.” The other man has a distressingly-cute smile on his face.

“I get the feeling,” Adam shifts a little closer to Kenny. His eyes are so damn blue… “that you have something you want me to ask for.” 

“I meannnn… I’m down for anything.” Keny just gives him the most innocent, angelic look, like he expects Adam to believe he’s nowhere near as dirty as Adam remembers he can be.

“I bet you are.” Adam says slyly and while he has some reservations about this, about going  _ here _ when it’s been so rocky between them, he can’t lie to himself and say it doesn’t sound good. That it’s not something he wants. “So what is it?”

“No, I said! It’s what you want! Honestly. I mean, I can try to be cheeky but. I feel it’s only fair to drop the mask for a second and just say,” Kenny explains, sobering, “that I am perfectly happy to just make out on the couch. Or, here on the floor’s good too. I will make out with you anywhere, Adam Page.”

“Well. Maybe what I want is.. for you to come and kiss me.” He tries to just be out with it. Bypassing any lingering thoughts about things they have done previously.

“I think I can do that.” Kenny scoots over and cups Adam’s cheek, looking at him tenderly before leaning in and kissing. If there’s one thing Adam has noticed, it’s that Kenny is a  _ very _ hands-on kisser. He’s a very hands-on everything, really. Touching, always touching—like he’s been starved for it. It makes Adam’s belly fill up with guilt, but he tries not to let it trap him. He kisses back, taking control as Kenny backs away just a little to let him.

Kenny groans softly as they kiss, scooting a little closer, and Adam gets the sense he’s holding back. Trying not to be too needy, letting Adam dictate the pace. It’s so sweet, and Adam already  _ knew _ , but he really knows what Kenny thinks of him with this. It’s hard not to realize.

And that’s all he really wanted. To feel like he had a say in this. That it wasn’t fate or destiny pulling them together, a force he couldn’t stop. It was just… two people finding something to admire in the other. Control. Something steady. It’s all Adam ever wanted after never having it. At least not since he became Death. Adam takes Kenny’s face in his hands, deepening the kiss just enough to hear Kenny moan properly before pulling away slowly. Teasingly so. “ _ This _ was the nice thing I wanted before everything got so mixed up. I just… wanted to kiss you.”

“I wish we could’ve just had this from the start,” Kenny admits in a soft voice. “But… did all the waiting at least make it sweeter?”

“Yeah…” Adam is a little breathless as he moves to kiss Kenny again.

“Good,” Kenny says, his voice oddly resonant and almost jarring. As he kisses back, there’s a feeling of smoke, like the other man is shotgunning him. When he opens his eyes, the space between them is filled with a purple and red haze.

Adam blinks a couple of times, the smell of myrrh in his nose for a moment. It makes him dizzy... but Kenny’s lips are so soft and his body is so warm... everything else melts away in the face of it. 

\--

When Jon Moxley walks into King’s Korner again, two weeks later from his last visit, Eddie’s helping coach an elderly white woman looking to get into incense and crystals. Whether he knows what he’s talking about or not, he’s certainly playing the part of a good salesman. “The vibrations on this crystal, ma’am, I gotta say, just incredible--”

Well… there is a razor thin line between salesman and con artist. Eddie’s both. 

Jon keeps his laugh to himself as he walks past the register and into the first row of bookshelves, idly grabbing something off of it before keeping himself within earshot of the conversation.

“Do you really think this will give me clear skin like you? My daughter, she’s worried about skin cancer, with me driving around in my golf cart so much in the sun…”

“Oh, absol _ utely _ , ma’am. Just keep two of these babies next to your bed… well, how old are you? Thirty?”

“Oh, Mr. Kingston… try doubling that?” 

“No way,” Eddie gasps at her, pantomiming disbelief. “ _ You? _ ”

Mox shakes his head, looking at the spine of the book he slid off the shelf.  _ The Healing Nature of Positive Thought.  _

Jesus Christ. 

He slides it back in and pats around his pants pocket for the loose cigarette he put there. He slides it behind his ear and leans on one of the shelves, making eye contact with Eddie before giving him a smirk. He could bail him out of this, but… he won’t.

“Well, Mrs. Humphries, what are you thinking?”

“Well, Mr. Kingston… I don’t know, I guess I’ll have to think about it…”

“Okay, why don’t you think about it for a sec, I’ll be right back after helping this other customer.” Eddie winks at Mox before resting a hand on the old woman’s shoulder.

“Oh, all right. You go ahead, I don’t want to be a bother.”

Eddie nods before walking over to Mox with a wide smile on his face. “Can I help you…  _ sir _ ?”

“I don’t know. You got any more of those anti-aging crystals? Sounds like a bargain.” Mox smirks back at him before nodding his head toward the back of the shop. There is business.

“It keeps skin cancer away, Mox, keep  _ up _ ,” Eddie mock-scoffs at him. “So. Whatcha come here for?”

“Got anything that can summon an echo?” Mox has been doing some thinking. If he can’t trace souls that withered before death, then maybe he can find a ghost. “I think the guy that’s helpin’ me out can lead me to any trapped spirits with unfinished business—I just need to summon one and keep it steady while I get some questions answered.” Clues about the bodies or what killed them have been few and far between. He’s getting impatient.

Eddie shuts the door to the back room.

“Summon an echo… do you wanna summon it, or tether it?” Eddie’s brow furrows, and he starts pacing back and forth across the tiny space.

“Both. Ain’t sure the Spirit of Vengeance will like me interrogating the dead too much. I need a plan B if he’s not gonna be into it.”

“I mean... it’s less about summoning it, cuz they’re already gonna, you know, be  _ around _ , than it is about opening a channel so you can actually  _ communicate _ with each other, you know what I’m saying? Ghosts… they’re still here, but they’re operating on another plane of existence. So you have to tune into where they’re at. It’s a matter of balance and focus. You get me?”

“So I’ve gotta just… get on their level.” Jon raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you’re telling me?” He’s not big on research. He’s always been an act first, ask questions later kinda guy. It’s nice, in a way, to have Eddie here, but at the same time, all this seems like so much more work than swindling Vengeance into owing him a favor.

“Kinda. Vengeance… seems like he has kind of like a shortcut, right? But, he’s unpredictable. Probably good to have a backup plan anyway. Takes a lot of work, but it’s worth it.”

“Lots of work. Mm.” Jon fiddles with the cigarette behind his ear for a moment. “You gonna help me out? You know I’ll read any book you got, but…” He’s gotten more impatient as he’s gotten older. Not that he wasn’t before. “This one’s kinda urgent.”

“Yeah.” Eddie tilts his head slightly at Jon, like there’s more to the question than what he’s asking. “Your place, after I close up?”

“Sounds like a plan. Unless…” Jon looks out the door of the back room to the front register. “Your customer is gonna be here buying crystals all night.”

Eddie starts to laugh before stifling it with his hand. “That’s good. That’s good, you almost got me.”

Jon shakes his head, but there is still a smirk on his face. “Don’t take her for everything she’s worth. Even if she probably deserves it.” He puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and squeezes. Had Eddie been alone here, he’d have already asked him to lock up. Running into dead end after dead end with this mystery has frayed his nerves badly—more than he’s let on. He’s found himself looking for distractions more often than not.

“Oh, you sayin’ I’m a bad boy? You sayin’ I’m a grifter?” Eddie snarls out a hoarse chuckle, grabbing Jon by the jacket and kissing him, hard.

It takes Jon’s breath away, for just a moment, before the sensation catches up with him and he remembers to kiss back. Some of the tension uncoils from him, shoulders relaxing and he pulls on Eddie’s bottom lip before he pulls back just slightly. “It was a compliment.”

“Yeah, but if I don’t give you a hard time, who will?” It’s fond, as Eddie’s lips move against his. The other man kisses him again softly once more before pulling away. “You betta be there. I close up at 7  _ sharp _ .”

“Where the hell else would I be?” 

“Off bein’ a superhero,” Eddie answers, more fondly than he probably means, before he ducks back around the door.

\--

Matt isn’t jealous. He can’t be. It’s something he’s quietly pushed down so deep, that he’s pretty sure he would have forgotten about the emotion even  _ existing  _ if it weren't for the funny way life has of making you remember things at the worst time.    
  
He’s supposed to be happy for Kenny. He told Nick that he’d let him go when he needed to. It’s not logical to feel like this, and yet… here it is. A run on the beach and two cups of coffee and he’s still just…  _ thinking.  _ He puts his head in his hands as he waits at the small table that sits beachside at a cafe he and Nick started to frequent after their morning runs. Kenny and Nick thankfully aren’t back yet and he desperately hopes that his brother won’t be able to pick up on the fact that his brain is scrambled with anxiety. 

“Hey,” Nick says, sliding around him with a smile. “Breakfast cubano or burrito, anyone? For a sad brother who did the right thing, maybe?” He wafts it under Matt’s nose. “Kenny’s still waiting.”

“Doing that lousy of a job hiding it, huh?” Matt sighs and scrubs at his eyes before sitting up a little. “Man it’s really annoying that you can just, tell.” He laughs, even though nothing is really funny and takes the burrito that Nick offered.

“I’ve known you for _ ever _ . Of course I can tell.” Nick takes the cubano and one of the coladas he brought back.

“I figured by this time, I’d learn how to keep some things from you.” Matt takes a long sip from the cold brew that Nick brought back for him. “Why does doing the right thing suck so bad? Shouldn’t it like, feel good? Like,  _ ‘oh you’ve done something right. Let me reward you for it’  _ but of course not.” He realizes he’s having his own internal dialogue externally, but he can’t bring himself to care at the moment.

Nick rests a hand on his back. “Not in the short run. But maybe in the long one.” Nick nods to someone behind Matt, as Kenny comes up.

“Hey guys. So, I really want to know.” Kenny sits down hard before narrowing his eyes at both of them, like a cat. “How exactly do you know Jon Moxley?”

Matt almost spits out his coffee, but he manages to keep it down only to swallow hard and then cough.    
  
“I’m afraid I have no idea who you’re talking about.” Nick says, and Matt almost side-eyes him for outright lying, but Nick’s tone tells him he’s trying to brush it under the rug jokingly. 

“Uh-huh. Then tell me how I got such a strong sense of  _ deja vu _ when he and I went to the Waffle House together… he was the guy that had an issue with finding his wallet that you guys so sneakily tried to hide from by scooting in to sit in the booth weird, didn’t you?”

“How the hell do  _ you  _ know Jon Moxley?” Matt asks after he clears his throat. “That dude hunts people like us. And that  _ us,  _ now includes you too.”    
  


“No, no, you--listen, guys, you’ve got it all wrong. He’s a good guy. He’s just trying to help fix everything that’s broken. We’re trying to get to the bottom of why the dead aren’t… dying.”

“You’re doing what now?” Matt shakes his head like he’s trying to process everything and his brain keeps short circuiting. Three months ago, he and Nick both had a run in with Jon Moxley and if it hadn’t been for some quick thinking, he’s not sure they would have made it out of that experience in one piece. “That asshole trapped us in a ring of holy fire,” he quiets his voice. “And that was just to interrogate us about how we ended up like this.” 

“Listen, I can’t advocate for… all of his methods. But I think he’s changed and… he was the one that ended up helping me when the Hangman and I were, uh, taking a break.”

“So you’re taking dating advice from a Hunter.” Nick sounds like he can’t believe his ears and Matt is having a hard time parsing it too. 

“Is this why you were being all cagey about what you were doing?” 

“No, it’s not dating advi—wait, cagey? What do you mean, cagey?”

“You weren’t exactly being straightforward about what you were doing when you weren’t hanging out with us.” Matt raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Oh, and you’re not very good at excuses either. Matt and I thought you were going out with someone you didn’t want to introduce us to.”

“No! No. Jon? No. You might like him though. Seems like the kind of guy you’d be into. You know... bad boys and all?”

Nick almost snorts when he starts laughing and Matt’s cheeks heat up even if he doesn’t want them to. “Shut up.” He pushes his brother's shoulder and it’s playful even if he wants to hit him harder. “I’m not… it’s not like that.”

“Dude, it totally is! I mean, I know I’m not maybe the  _ baddest  _ guy, but I feel like there’s definitely a trend there. I think you should meet him. I mean, if nothing else than to clear the air.” Kenny reaches over Nick to take a colada and tosses it back.

“Thanks for the advice, but I think I’m good. I don’t think hooking me up with a Hunter is gonna solve any problems.” Not that Matt has any problems, other than his brother and Kenny who apparently feels so bad for him he’s gotta try and get him hook ups. It leaves a bit of a sour taste in his mouth. “I’m good. I promise.”

“I just… Can I clear the air for a sec?”

“Kenny…” Nick warns.

“No, I don’t want to have this… bad feeling, this  _ je nai se qoui  _ floating around.” Kenny sighs hard, before pushing curly hair back from his forehead. “I do feel really bad that I took advantage of you, and maybe this is breaking some unspoken agreement we have not to talk about it but… it was really awful of me. And I feel like I fucked this friendship we have up a bit. And I just wanted to say that. If you really aren’t interested in dating or anything like that… I can stop. I’ll stop. But. It’s not pity. I just do feel really guilty about it still.”

...Sure feels like pity. 

“I shouldn’t have told you. I just shouldn’t have.” Matt admits. “If anyone screwed it up, it was me. I should have just kept my mouth shut and helped you work through it like a real friend. You’re great, Page is great. It’s fine. I just don’t want to think about being with anyone right now.” The only other man he’s ever had a crush on is Adam Cole, who is also off-limits. He’s batting a thousand here.

“No, I mean… I wasn’t with anyone at the time. You didn’t do anything wrong, and I don’t want you to feel like you did, Matt! I just… I’m sorry, I’m a mess. I should--I should probably go. Leave you two alone.” Kenny starts gathering up his half-finished sandwich and napkins and trash. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Kenny…” Nick starts, but Matt cuts his brother off. 

“Please don’t go.” Kenny stops what he’s doing, freezing in place as soon as Matt says it. “Haven’t we all spent enough time keeping secrets and running away from shit? Yeah. It sucks, and it hurts, but having you decide that I’m somehow better off without you as a friend too. That would kill me.” This isn’t the time or place for this conversation, but a painful ball of anxiety is stuck in his chest and he just needed to say it.

“I just…” Kenny sits back down. “Is this what being an adult is? Having to sit with your own shitty feelings, because you still care about your friend?”

Matt’s phone goes off just then.

“I’m just here to make sure you both don’t do anything stupid.” Nick chimes in against the buzzing of Matt’s phone. 

“It can wait,” Matt sighs. “I just don’t think I can deal with people walking away to give me space or whatever. I don’t want space.” That’s part of the problem. 

“Oh. Okay.” Kenny looks at him. “What do you want, Matt? I mean like, from me, from life, from the world. If. That’s okay to ask.”

“Why do you gotta ask me such hard questions? I’m still trying to figure out how to operate like—“ Matt motions to himself and then his phone starts rumbling again. “God dammit… give me a second.” He answers it without another thought. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Matt.” The voice on the other side of the phone is a very husky sounding Adam Cole, and something about it makes Matt’s toes curl and blood beat faster. “I was hoping you’d pick up.”

He swallows down the feeling. “Yeah, dude. Sorry about that. I’m just out right now.” 

“No, it’s fine, listen, uh…” Adam clears his throat, but it doesn’t help how good he sounds. “Britt just told me she wants to have an… open relationship, and I know it’s a  _ lot _ to ask, but I’m just trying to process all this and, uh. I was wondering if you would be able to come over. It’s always so good to talk things out with you, you know? You’re like my moral compass.”

“I…” He can feel Kenny and Nick looking at him expectantly. Matt can hardly even process what he’s hearing. “Yeah. Of course. Sounds like a lot to process. I’ll be over as soon as I wrap up.”

“Great, great. No rush, she’s uh. She’s busy. It’s spa day, chemical peel, all that. So, just, um. Come over whenever you’re ready.” Matt is finally able to pinpoint what the husky sound is… it’s like the man is a second away from tears and also… something more. Matt  _ really _ should not find it as hot as he does.

“I’ll see you soon.” Matt tells him and quickly hangs up the phone lest the other thoughts in his head get the better of him. “That was… weird.” 

“Yeah? I feel like I’ve seen that look before, bro.” Nick puts his head on his hands, giving Matt that lazy glare like he’s not dying to know what Matt’s saying.

“Must have been  _ something _ … you’re glowing.” Kenny pokes his shoulder gently.

“Ah, fuck.” Matt looks at his arms quickly to make sure his glamour hasn’t dropped. “No,” he shakes his head. “It was just Adam. He asked me to come over. Sounds like his girlfriend just gave him some news he’s not really able to process.” He’s trying not to admit that it feels at least a little good to be wanted. “But we’re not done here. I’m not leaving until we figure this out.”

Nick gives him a Look that says he isn’t getting away with just that amount. “What’s the news?”

Matt sighs, over-dramatically this time. “Adam says Britt wants an open relationship. He sounded pretty upset. Happy?” Nick is such a gossip sometimes.

“Well, see? Earlier you thought he was taken. Now, you’re the first person he reaches out to. Either he trusts you--”

“Orrrr,” Kenny interrupts, before wiggling his eyebrows.

Nick gestures back over his shoulder. “Or that.”

“Fuck. I’m just going over to help him out. If he wanted any of that… he would have said something. You’re both the worst, I hope you know that.”

“It’s cuz we love you.” Nick punctuates his statement with another bite of cubano, and it makes Matt hate him a little more. (Not really.)

He rolls his eyes. “I’m serious though. I’m not going anywhere until we have an understanding.”

“Sorry, sorry. We were talking about....” Kenny waves his hand in the air. “Operating something.”

“Look.” Matt starts and he tries to be stern. “I don’t want this to be messed up. I want to be the way we were. So… whatever that means, I’ll get over this. Just take it one step at a time with me, okay?”

“Okay.” Kenny’s face is open, earnest. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Matt sighs, finally, in relief more than anything. 

It’s quiet for a moment between all of them. 

“So. You gonna go hook up with Adam or not?” Nick needles him just a second later. 

“Fuck. Off.”

\--

Jon really should’ve checked how much gas he had left in the tank when he left Eddie’s, but he was so preoccupied thinking over everything that happened in the last two weeks he didn’t even give it a second thought. So of course now that he’s almost home, in one of the weird condo deserts of Miami, he has to find a place to fill up.

He passes by a Speedway, and the price is a little rich for his blood, so he keeps driving until he sees a sign that looks like it belongs in Las Vegas, and it makes him a little homesick.  _ Welcome to fabulous Casino Gas & Auto Spa _ . And it’s 10 cents cheaper than the Speedway.

So of course, he pulls in. 

The place is a motley collection of canvas awnings and gas pumps, and looks like it’s seen better days. Still, can’t beat the price.

When he slides out of his pickup truck, a wave of vertigo washes over him, making him stumble backwards and grab onto the door for a moment. This has happened more times lately then he’d like to admit, waves of magic rolling over him like the tide coming in. Jon’s usually better at sensing one is coming, that something with a tainted aura is close by, but this one feels different. A bitterly-sweet taste fills his mouth and nose and he shakes his head to try and push past it.  _ Something  _ is here. Something with a powerful enough pulse of energy that he can literally taste it.

Something… that should be hunted if not cornered down and made to answer for what it’s doing here. 

Now that he’s out of his truck, he can see something beyond the awnings even with slightly blurred vision. The signs in the car wash office advertise a “mirror-like shine” and “a world of fun.” Another wave of vertigo hits Jon and he could swear faintly, on the breeze, he hears the sound of fairground organ music.

Never a good sign. 

Jon likes to take things on head-first. He likes an enemy you can see and stab and make bleed if you need to. He doesn’t do corrupted entities or things that crawled out of unspecified holes in reality. It makes him itchy. But he also doesn’t back down from a fight. Or a good mystery, unfortunately. Plus… he gets the feeling this place didn’t just corrupt itself.

_ Be careful, Jon.  _ The voice in his head warns. 

_ “I was wondering if you were up there. Been quiet the past couple of weeks. You got anything on this? Or am I on my own?” _

_ You’ve been something close to happy. I’ve been enjoying it! But… I don’t know. Something about this isn’t the normal type of demonic that I’d expect in a hellmouth. Demons are about the people, not the place. _

_ “So not a demon.”  _

That should worry him, but his ability to feel concern as sharply as he should has been sanded down over the years. Still, the taste in his mouth makes his stomach churn. 

_ “What are the odds I walk in there and find something that would give someone else a nightmare?” _

_ I’d say… high. _

_ “Then in we go, I guess.” _

Better him than anyone else. Jon heads to the back of his truck and opens the tailgate, sliding a large canvas bag toward him before opening up the almost rusty zipper to rifle around the contents inside. He pulls out another bag, this one blue silk tied with a gold ribbon and a machete that he’s never bothered to keep in a sheath. The black sigels etched into it shine in the bright Miami sunset. Here goes nothing. 

He slowly walks into the building, and the door dings just like any self-respecting gas station would… but as soon as he notices he’s entered a space that looks like a studio condo filled with mirrors, the door slams behind him.

“Fuck.” 

He freezes. Entities that shift the space around you usually feed off of fear and confusion. The more anxiety you pump out, the stronger they get. It’s a means to an end. 

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He starts. He’s not begging. Just stating a fact. 

He doesn’t see anything except himself, reflected in the mirrored coffee table and the walls in front of him. The angles of the mirrors shift, and he gets a wave of vertigo so strong he almost falls over.

It takes a second to balance but he manages and keeps a hold of the machete in his hand as he does so. The blue bag he took from his truck is stuffed in his pocket, its contents a last resort he doesn’t want to think about using unless he has to. Jon clears his throat and tries again. “I’m bein’ honest. If you stop fucking around with me, no one has to get hurt.”

Nothing answers, but the door behind him creaks open.

Jon stiffens, turning his head just slowly enough that he can see what is trying to push past the door. But...nothing.

Until there is a dripping sound from beyond the door. 

_ “Love a dripping sound.” _ This is fucked in more ways than Jon was necessarily prepared for. He takes a breath, slow and steady before making his way to the door and pushing it open the rest of the way with his foot. The space beyond the door is a wide, expansive void floored with terra cotta tile, and in the center of what would normally be a hallway is an inky black pool, being filled by a drip from the ceiling. Everything farther away is obscured in an odd, misty fog.

_ “You got anything on this?”  _ He thinks, hoping desperately that the sensation he experienced earlier didn’t knock loose his connection with the demon that owns his soul. He doesn’t move otherwise, trying to take calming, even breaths.

_ No… nothing. Sorry, babe. _ She answers quickly, and he gets the sense she’s just as nervous as he is. 

The faint laughter of children echoes in a direction, before inky, black footprints start to form, leading off into the fog.

_ Uh, what the hell? Have you read about anything like this in your book?  _ the demon asks Jon.

_ “I got nothing, which is probably bad news for me.”  _ To Jon’s knowledge he can’t exactly die, but he sure as hell can feel pain and he absolutely knows that death isn’t the worst thing that can happen to you.  _ “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I’m trapped.” _

_ I mean, I know it  _ sounds  _ like the worst possible idea… but what if you followed them? The footprints. _

_ “Follow the creepy ghost children’s footprints...and they say I have bad ideas.”  _ Jon’s not sure he has much of a choice though, until he can find something tangible to ask questions to, he’s stuck playing by this place's rules. 

_ Well, Jon,  _ clearly _ the footprints are adult-sized.  _ The demon’s tone is snarky, and he gets the flash of a smile in his mind’s eye.  _ Laughter: children, footprints: adult. _

_ “Because that makes it better.”  _ Jon rolls his eyes.  _ “Fine. We’re going.”  _ He adjusts the blade in his hand before he takes a tentative step forward and fights off every instinct he has to follow the footsteps closer to the fog that is obscuring everything in the distance.

He ends up following the footprints right through mist, until it gives way to a condo apartment that looks like someone took the previous room he was in and flipped it. 

_ “This officially sucks. I knew this shit was gonna happen. I’m in a fucking maze.” _

_ Jon, was that someone behind you?  _ The demon’s voice is starting to get a little worried.

Jon turns on his heel, seeing nothing but the sheen of mirrors behind him. He growls in his throat, and anxious to make  _ something  _ happen, he takes a swing at one of the mirrors with his machete with all intentions on shattering it. 

A hand comes out to meet him, grabbing his hand and twisting his wrist painfully as his growl resounds and echoes until it becomes a horribly distortion of itself.

_ Jon! Look out! _

At least he’s got something to fight now. 

Jon clenches his teeth against the pain in his wrist, but his fingers hold tight to his blade so he doesn’t drop it. “Son of a…” he finally looks up at the mirror and his stomach drops.

It’s his face, covered in blackness, with glowing red eyes. It growls at him before snarling and lunging for him.

He drops onto his back and feels his wrist snap as he pulls the horror out of the mirror and sends it sailing backwards. His machete falls onto the horribly beige carpet as he rolls onto his stomach before pushing himself up with his good hand.

The dark version of himself gets to its feet and matches him move for move, he doesn’t hear anything from the demon in his head, just a persistent, buzzing static.

“Son of a bitch—“ Jon growls, hand throbbing as he drives his shoulder into his doppelgänger who does the same, causing him to recoil backwards from the force. He can’t think, and his weapon is a foot or more away now that he’s tried to position himself better. This isn’t going to work. You don’t just get out of these situations scott-free. He could bargain, try and ask again what this place wants, but he knows he wouldn’t get an answer.

Red lights pulse around him, and the thrum of a heartbeat--his heartbeat?--echoes in the air as the doppelgänger walks up to his knife slowly, kicking it into the mists far away. “Uh uh. Not gonna win that easily.” A sick smile as the double leans in to grab him. 

He doesn’t need a reminder that he’s his own worst enemy. Jon knows it without something manifesting it in front of him. He backs up and suddenly remembers the weight in his back pocket as the static buzzes in his head. He shouldn’t… but what choice does he really have? 

As the creature’s hands turn to bloody red claws in front of him, he knows he has none.

Jon reaches with his good hand and snatches that bag out of his pocket, crushing the contents in his hand. He tastes blood immediately.

Inky blackness leeches off the dopplegänger like slime, pulling all of that darkness away and leaving only a smaller, terrified, 20-year-old version of himself underneath.

Jon knows, in that single moment of clarity, that he’s made a mistake.

He feels blood bubble past his lips, gasping for a moment as he looks at himself, a mirror to a place he will never forget—the static in his mind gets overwhelming and he feels bones moving as his wrist cracks painfully back into place. When you make a deal with a demon, no matter the intent, there are consequences. You change. Magic can keep those changes at bay, but magic can break the damn as well. He's about to drown.

He can’t stop himself from bearing down on his smaller self, still his doppelgänger, claws guiding to the heart. He can taste the beating blood. “ _ Gluttony. _ ” It’s what he is now...

“Stop! Yeah you! You heard me, don’t you even  _ act _ like you didn’t!” A loud, familiar voice cuts through the static and the fog, holding out a glowing light at arm’s length that hurts to look at.

Jon feels inky blackness threaten to swallow him whole and he gnashes long, sharp teeth, pulls of black ooze dripping off of him before it slides down his arms and solidifies into claws. He feels both himself and not, all at once, and something like shame burns in his chest when he realizes who’s here with him. 

“E-Eddie.” It’s more of a hiss than anything else as the Otherworld he was trapped in fades, leaving him inhuman, standing in a grassy courtyard surrounded by aging 90s condo buildings and the twilight of Miami. 

“Jon! I love you, brothah! But if you’re in there you gotta give me a sign!” Eddie shakes the glowing, clear crystal at him. “Cuz if you’re not… whatever’s taken over your body’s gonna have hell to pay, goddammit.”

Jon takes a deep inhale of humid air, the inhuman growl of it hurting his ears and the light from whatever Eddie is holding painfully radiating through his body. It’s too much sensation at once and he reaches a hand up and pulls the black, slimy goo from the side of his face. 

“Eddie… got ten minutes to… stop shining that fucking light at me and put this thing… back in its box.”

“Or what? Or you’ll what?!” He doesn’t shift his posture at all.

“I don’t know!” Jon yells and there is a terrible echo to his voice. It’s been at least a year since he’s needed to do this. Since the door was opened. It’s worse now than it ever has been.

“Johnny… if you’re in there, baby, you gotta give me a sign,” Eddie says, sounding on the edge of an emotional breakdown as he shakes the crystal threateningly. “If you’re still in control… otherwise, I’m gonna fix this. I can’t promise it won’t hurt, but it sure as shit will work. You thought these crystals were just for show?” 

“Eddie. I’m—still here. It’s just—“ Jon feels the cracks in his resolve, the deep rumble in his chest like he’s trying to hold back a million different emotions and he’s not sure which one might spill through. “I just… need help putting it back in its box.”

“Okay. Okay, Johnny, I can work with that,” Eddie says, shaking as he only slightly lowers his arm. “But first--what’s one thing so pure that… if something took you over, there’s no way they’d know.”

Jon shakes his head. This…

“You’re… really gonna do this old trick to me?” He can’t help but smile even as the tendrils of darkness swarm around his clawed hand, threatening to cover the other side of his face again.

“Listen, man, I just--I gotta know.” Eddie looks at him, truly  _ looks _ at him, just desperate.

This is  _ exactly  _ what he didn’t want. That desperation from someone so determined. 

“I burned you with a cigarette… on accident… the first time we slept together.”

“Okay. Okay.” Eddie kneels slowly, putting the crystal down in the grass, and pops the cork of something in his pocket before he pours salt that kills the grass it touches in a generous circle. “Alright, man. Get over here.”

Jon falls to his knees and feels bones crack again as he makes his way over, more animal than he would like to admit or feel. It pulses inside of his mind and the voice there is still oddly silent. 

_ “Ry… you seeing this?”  _ He tries. 

Just static. Damn.

Part of him is morbidly curious as he drags his body over to Eddie, half-human and half whatever demonic parts have grown off of him. “How bad do I look?”

Eddie looks up at him, face half smile, half sneer. “Would you believe me if I said I’ve seen worse?”

“Somehow. Yes.” Jon can’t bring himself to laugh, the sensation crawling underneath his skin enough to make him want to collapse. But he doesn’t. Not yet. He keeps on his feet until he’s close enough to Eddie that he can see him clearly, streetlights from far off making the night hazy. His left hand feels alien to him, the demonic magic having seeped into his bones to fix the break, fingers razor sharp onyx claws and inky black skin peeling back from it and up his arm. The rest is still in flux. Tendrils of inky slime trying to seep in and change him from the inside out. 

“Hey. Just… step into the salt. It might hurt but… it’ll. Fix things, you know.” Eddie’s confidence falters, his voice shaky as he looks from Jon’s face to his arm.

Jon trusts him. He always has. But he needs something to be clear. 

“You can’t exorcise this. It’s… it  _ is _ me Eddie. You gotta understand that.”

“I know. I know, we just gotta… put the genie back in the bottle, baby.”

Jon takes a shaky step forward into that salt ring and as soon as he does, a pain so sharp it takes his breath away rips through him and he’s on his knees again.

“Sorry man… there’s only one way I know of doing this.”

Eddie’s face is the last thing Jon sees before he passes out.

\--

And from a distance, the one who started this all escapes with his quarry back out of this world. Fae have little concern for Hunters. 


	11. Curses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hellmouth twists hearts, minds, and bodies in ways no one could have anticipated.

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 11: Curses**

_ The desert isn't the worst place to die. It’s probably even fitting, if Jon really thinks about it..  _

_ Being lost to the sun, bones buried under the sand--giving back to the most inhospitable landscape he’s ever had the pleasure to step foot in. It settles his mind just a little. It seems necessary. But it’s still the last part that really gets to him. The thought of the sun coming up. If the wound in his belly doesn’t finish him off, and it very well might, the sun beating down on him will in a matter of hours. For his sake, he hopes it's sooner rather than later. Roman is probably dead, but that thought is too far away to really feel real. Lost in the tangle of pain and betrayal and whatever else is trying to seep into his mind at the moment. He doesn't know exactly what kind of curse was imbued into the knife, but he’d have a few guesses if he could think about anything. Instead, all he sees is the moon and all he feels is the feverish pulse of something wicked trying to lurch into his blood.  _

_ Jon takes a shuddering breath, and finally, he tries to focus on the last thing his mind settles on, he thinks about Eddie. He shouldn’t. But if his time here really is up, he feels like that's his due punishment. The way it ended. How he walked away. The last thing he ever said. Dwelling on it all is what he deserves.  _

_ For a moment, he thinks he hears a rattlesnake’s warning rattle somewhere off in the distance, but he’s probably hallucinating. The lights of Vegas seem too bright and too far away at the same time.  _

_ Jon Moxley is going to die in the desert and no one will miss him. _

_ "I thought I smelled a hunter out here. How strange... ugh, it's even worse up close! Someone using cursed daggers, in my domain? Really? Absolutely tasteless. Geez! Wait--Jon? No way--Jon? Is that you?" A mirage runs closer. A reminder of his all-too-human weakness, here to torment him, in the petite form of a pale-skinned human woman... _

_ It’s not real. It can’t be real. Jon can hardly think; that part of the curse is just—it’s too much. Jon tries to take a deep breath instead of answering; it’s getting harder even to do that. _

_ "Holy shit, Jon! You--listen to me. You're dying. I can save you, I can take this away but you have to give me something in return... and honestly, given this is happening, you could probably use it... hell, Jon--" She slices through her palm, tipping Jon's head back and giving him a drop of demon blood, just to give him some clarity. "Jon. I need you with me. Can you hear me?" _

_ It’s bitter in his mouth and he groans. Nope, this is real… very, very real. “Ry… You… can’t be here.” He feels so cold now that he has that little bit of life running through him. “If I’m gonna go… I’m gonna go.” _

_ The face in front of him comes into focus slowly, her dusty pink bob hanging over green eyes, lips drawn into a frown. "You're not ‘gonna go.’ I won't let you. Jon, you have so much to live for... and you spared my life once, so I'm going to do the same for you. But this time around it's going to be a little harder... I need you to enter into a pact with me. Pledge to me, and I can take this curse from you. I won't take much from you... I just want to see you happy and healthy. You deserve that. I'll just... share in your happiness and help you take care of yourself. That's all." _

_ He’s silent for a moment until pain rips through his chest again. “A pact.” It’s not a question, just a thought. He doesn’t want to think about it, but he can’t afford not to. “It’s not what I do and… you know it.” _

_ "But it could be. Just... just think about everything you could accomplish, if you had a little help. Someone who's literally only invested in your happiness. We could... get a dog! You could have a dog, Jon, and I'd make sure you eat properly, sleep for real... and I could help keep you healthy. _

_ "After all, the best revenge isn't getting even. Living well is the best revenge. Especially after what... he did to you." She looks down at the wound and grimaces. _

_ “I—“ He doesn’t know how to live. He’s never known. Not really. “I don’t know how...” Jon can feel her hand on his chest. “You don’t know what you’re asking.” _

_ "Then let me show you. And if you don't like it... I'll let you die. That will be part of the pact. Okay?" Her eyes are so eager, so warm. That's probably part of the deception but... some of it has to be honest, right? _

_ The worst part is. He  _ knows  _ it’s honest. As honest as a demon can be. And she’s… beautiful. More than he deserves, even if there wasn’t a gulf between them. He swallows hard. “I… don’t wanna die.” A confession, _

_ "Then it doesn't have to be like this." A beat. "I'll take care of you, Jon. We'll take care of each other. That's... all I've ever really wanted, really. Is someone to care for me like I care for them." She smiles, and helps him sit up. "Will you willingly and of sound mind enter into a pact with me, Jon Moxley?" _

_ Jon’s throat feels raw and his entire lower half is numb. “Sorry about the miserable bastard you’re about to bind yourself to, Ry.” He puts his hand on hers. One more breath. “I do.” _

_ She takes her other hand, and with a claw inscribes a tiny heart on the underside of his left ring finger, while a heartbeat shows up on hers. The demon says a few words under her breath, and both wounds glow, burning into flesh for only a second, before the world flashes white and he's healed... better than he's felt in years, actually. All pains and aches gone, for the moment. _

_ "It's not like mortal marriage, I promise. But it's also  _ kind of _ like that. So, uh, you're sharing in my topped-off energy for the moment, lucky you." She smiles nervously. "Well?" _

_ “Fuck.” Jon’s eyes go wide and he swallows hard, her hands so warm on him. “Holy—” He blinks once and then again, blue eyes bright. He can’t believe this. No pain. No low ache of all the scars on his back. “Sure is one hell of a hit...” _

_ "Yeah... I've never done it before, so... sorry if it's a lot to take in," she says with an apologetic smile, and her voice is echoing in his head, too, like a friendly windchime.  _

_ So this is what it’s like. Jon realizes that this feeling, the one where your whole body is filled with warmth and power, it’s why people get addicted to it. “How in the hell… did you even find me out here?” _

_ "I own Vegas. Or haven't you heard?" She wrinkles her nose cutely. "Something smelled rotten in the state of desert.” _

_ “That’s right. You own everything.” Jon closes his eyes. “So what now? What happens next?” He—Roman... _

_ "Right now, you go and rest. It might not feel like it right now, but your body will come to claim the toll. There's nothing I can do about that, short of feed you demon blood. And I don't think you actually want more of that, especially with the whole  _ addiction  _ thing and all." She bends down to slide an arm under his shoulder. "C'mon, big guy." _

_ So this is it.  _

_ “He got Roman too. I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t save him. I don’t—“ Jon bites his bottom lip hard to stop himself from going further. Without the pain to cloud it, the ache in his chest is real. Everything changed in just 6 hours time. _

_ "It's gonna be okay," she says, hauling him easily to his feet despite her smaller stature. "We're gonna figure it all out. Okay?" _

_ “It’s that easy?” He bristles a little. “You just say it’s gonna be okay and it’s okay? Sorry if that sounds too good to be true.” _

_ "I didn't say it wouldn't take time and effort. Just... trust me, Jon. I saved your life. But I didn't say that coming back would be easy." _

_ Jon feels his legs almost buckle beneath him. “Just remember… you signed up for this.” He tries to sneer, but he doesn’t have it in him, not really. “Just—take me home.” Whenever home is. He has no idea anymore. _

\--

Eddie watches Mox’s chest rise and fall, leaning forward with his head on folded hands. The irony of it all isn’t lost on Eddie--that if anyone were to walk in, it would look like he was praying. Praying while his eyes are focused on the man passed out on the Victorian-ass blue velvet couch in front of him.

Eddie can’t help but chuckle sickly to himself at the thought, as if God hadn’t put him in purgatory on Earth, and as if Jon Moxley’s right hand wasn’t twisted, sick and black, fingers much too large and extending into sharp points beside his body.

As if Eddie hadn’t rushed to make a call to someone he never wanted to owe a favor in this life, as if Eddie hadn’t curled both his hands around Jon’s now-monstrous one, leaking black ichor that no hand should ever leak in the back seat of a Camry as it rushed down dark Miami roads.

As if he hadn’t watched a circle of amateurs, most even younger than him, form a circle around Mox and try to keep him from dying to the monster he unleashed.

Because Eddie never bothered to learn more from his mother than what he, selfishly, needed to stay alive and get by, even if it meant twisting things that should’ve been beautiful and sacred, the things passed down for generations, into rough weapons to stab someone in the metaphorical guts.

“I didn’t save him for me. Please, if you let him live… don’t do it for me. Do it for everyone else out there that needs him,” Eddie whispers, a tear slipping down his cheek without permission.

Well, maybe he is praying after all.

A soft groan sounds from Mox, he takes a deep shuddering breath and then he shifts—pushing himself up slightly before his eyes finally open. His eyes are red-rimmed, like he has one hell of a hangover.

Eddie clears his throat louder than he means to, but, it is what it is. “Heya, Mox. Welcome back to the land of the living. Such as it is.”

“Body tells me… that wasn’t just a nightmare.” He grimaces, before turning his blue eyes straight up to the ceiling. “Or some bad speed.” 

“No. Wish I could tell you different.” Eddie sighs, before getting up from the worn velvet and wrought-iron armchair to walk over to kneel next to Mox. “Your hand--they were able to save you but… they couldn’t change it back.” His lungs rattle as he breathes in. Too old for this shit. “Sorry.”

Mox still doesn’t look at him, but his jaw is clenched tight and he swallows hard after that piece of information sets in. “Who’s they?” 

“The--the, you know,” Eddie fights with his brain. Exhaustion is finally catching up with him, and the words slip away from him like water. He rubs at his face with a hand, as if that will help at all. “The witches. The whole group of ‘em. The Border House, or whatever they call themselves. I forget.”

Finally, Mox turns to look at him. “How’d you find me? That thing swallowed me—how’d you make it in and then out?” Mox’s brain has switched over to only processing what it can. Facts. Eddie’s seen it a thousand times before; he pushes every other thought down, for fear they might swallow him up. It’s Mox coping 101.

“You probably don’t remember it, but. Like I said then. These crystals aren’t just for show, Mox.” Eddie reaches into his pocket and pulls out a perfectly-clear double terminated quartz crystal tied to a loop of tough nylon rope. “Well, maybe the ones in my shop are. But that secret stays between you’n’ me, you got it?”

“You answered one question, not the other. Unless you know more magic than you ever fuckin’ told me. I’m not trying to one-up you, but Eddie, I broke the emergency glass. You walked right in.”

“Well, I sure as shit didn’t know there was emergency glass, Mox, geez! I… sorry. Fuck, feels like all I’ve been doing since you woke up is apologizing. Listen. All that mattered was getting to you. And… and I woulda done anything to do it. I was about to say I’d go through hell, but we both know I do that every day just living in Miami, am I right?” A joke. Finish off with a joke. Mox’s all tired… distract him. Fuck.

“Eddie.” Mox takes another breath, shallow, like it hurts to breath. He grimaces, and then that black hand moves, like Mox is figuring out how to feel with new muscles and nerves. He grabs Eddie’s shoulder with it, and pushes Eddie’s head down onto his chest. “You need to sleep.”

“Nah, I--I just. I gotta make sure, if someone comes, I--” Eddie needs to protest, dammit, Mox is the one who got hurt, and really, he needs someone watching over him--

“Fuck. Just—do me this one favor. Stop pretending like you haven’t been up for fuckin’ 24 hours. Just. Please.”

“Okay--been awake for 24 hours. There, ya happy?” Eddie grumbles, adjusting his head on Mox’s chest. He doesn’t need to sleep, dammit, so he protests, “Just… a little longer… till they…”

\--

Matt’s never noticed how big The Raleigh is before now. He walks under the length of the entrance’s huge black and white striped awning, before arriving in front of the glass and brass double doors. He’s not sure, as he peers through them looking for Adam Cole, if he’s ever really been here for more than a few minutes. For some reason, the thought suddenly makes him incredibly anxious, and his skin starts itching as he stands and waits.

Thankfully, it’s not long before he catches a glimpse of the man in question, slowly walking through the marble-floored lobby, his back hunched forward slightly. When he sees Matt, he immediately breaks into a slow jog to the doors before heaving them open. “Hey. Matt.” The man’s smile is wide, but something about his eyes looks tired. 

Has he always had those dark circles under his eyes?

Adam steps outside so he can hold the door open. “Come on in, buddy. Thanks so much for coming by. After you, of course. Mi casa es su casa.”

“You doing alright?” Matt feels an itch under his skin again, but he ignores it as he walks in, eyes still focused on Adam. “You sounded like you had more to say on the phone than you were letting on. Thought you’d be home and not here after… ya know.” He walks around it, not knowing how much the other man really wants to talk about the state of his relationship. 

“Yeah, I.” The man sighs, almost involuntarily, and has a certain vulnerability about him that Matt’s never seen before as he closes the door behind him and follows Matt into the lobby. “I was just really tired and… it was better to ask you to come here--  _ Mentally _ , that is. Mentally tired. An emotional exhaustion. I hope that’s… okay. I know, big hotel, no staff… I have seen The Shining.” A pause, and he smiles slightly, like he’s made a joke only he understands. “Britt hates it when I mention The Shining in her hotel.”

Matt actually laughs as he slides onto the plush couch right inside the doors. “Yeah man, I can understand that. Not exactly the most pleasant comparison, but when you’re right, you’re right.” He smiles just slightly, trying to be reassuring. “As for everything else, I don’t blame you. You’ve made it through worse shit before. I have to imagine whatever is going on with you and Britt has to at least be better than… what happened with Kevin.” Matt feels bad for even mentioning it, but Adam’s got thick skin and it’s been  _ years _ .

“Fuck, man. I know. God... what a disaster.” Adam sighs and collapses next to him, letting out a full lungful worth of breath. “Still can’t believe it took the whole security team to get him out of that place. What was it called again? Club Gun?”

“Bullet Club.” Matt answers quickly, the name almost seared into his brain. “Seems like a million years ago.” Even though he remembers every moment like it just happened yesterday. Matt’s never had a drink in his life, but he remembers nights out—drinking club soda with Nick as Adam and Kevin menaced everyone in games of pool—he remembers Adam kissing him and realizing what whiskey tasted like for the first time.

It makes his gut burn.

“Right, Bullet Club. Still can’t believe they fired me for something my ex did. I know you’re friends with Kenny and all, but that was a dick move. Betcha he doesn’t even remember who I am anymore. Anyway, sorry, I didn’t ask you over here to go through all these bad memories. And… honestly, I think Britt and I are good. Better than good, really. Like, she means a lot to me, but… if I’m honest, her telling me not to be afraid to go on dates with other people? I mean, let’s be realistic here, I’ve never really been one to just… settle in one place before her.”

“Oh, I know. I just—I wondered if maybe you weren’t trying to invest in something else. Not a bad thing,ikhhg by the way, just figured maybe it was time for a change. Didn’t want you to be disappointed if it didn’t work out.” Matt knows a thing or two about that right now.

“No, no, I… I’m just kind of excited to spice things up a little bit, I guess. Now that I’m an eligible… open relationship guy. I guess bachelor isn’t quite right.” Adam Cole smiles again, looking directly at Matt, and it’s much brighter than before. Something about those deep blue eyes causes Matt to get lost a little, thinking about the possibilities... 

His mind feels a bit hazy and he sits back just a little. “That’s good. I was afraid you were gonna be really broken up. Which… I would have been here for that, but I’m not gonna lie. I’ve been emotionally wrung out lately.” He shouldn’t talk about it. No. Not here and not now. Adam and Kenny don't exactly get along, even if Kenny barely remembers Adam and Adam seems like he’ll never forget Kenny… or forgive him.

“Hey.” Adam furrows his brow, and puts a hand on Matt’s shoulder before leaning in close to him. “What you tell me… it doesn’t have to leave this room if you don’t want it to. I don’t want to push you but… you’re too good to take on everyone’s burdens and not have any place to put them. You’re not a… fucking emotional baggage bellboy, okay, Mattie?” He rubs his hand up and down Matt’s shoulder. All the attention feels so good… and he has been craving it.

Maybe that’s been part of his bad mood. He doesn’t really need food to survive any more, but he does need praise. A lot of it, in fact. And ever since that…  _ mistake _ with Kenny, he hasn’t gotten nearly enough of it. Even Nick’s been keeping his distance.

“Can I tell you something and you  _ have _ to promise not to hold it against him or say anything outside of just us, okay?” Matt feels like the floodgates are about to open, but it’s trying too hard not to let them.... Even though Adam’s laser-focused attention on him feels so damn good. He feels the last flicker of magic inside of him light up again, but he knows it won’t stick around for long. It’s getting harder to keep the glamour up, and he didn’t even consider his new hunger--that he’s literally starved for attention--before he came over here.

“Of course. I just want to know what’s going on with you, Mattie.” Adam squeezes his shoulder firmly, and it feels so good it makes him want to scream--especially because it’s not  _ nearly _ enough.

This must be how people lost in the desert feel when they see an oasis on the horizon. All Matt has to do is reach for it…

Fuck. 

“I slept with Kenny when he was on the rebound.” Matt feels everything just—break. 

Then the words don’t stop. 

“He was so fucked up over everything and it was a fucking bad idea, but damn did I want to. And now he’s… now he’s out here throwing pity parties for me because he doesn’t want me like that actually and it’s driving me fucking crazy because I need—“ he stops himself and he sees his glamour flicker and it makes his heart stop in his chest. 

“Mattie…” Adam’s hand holds fast to Matt’s shoulder, and his other hand moves to loosely hold Matt’s right hand. Adam has the singular intensity of a tiger or a panther for a moment--an apex predator who has their prey right where he wants them. The thought then leaves Matt’s head as quickly as it comes. “ _ What else aren’t you telling me? _ ”

Matt feels itchy for a moment again and then he feels like he’s going to melt into the couch even as Adam hangs onto him. “I’m not… it’s fine. I’m not…” He tries again and the two competing compulsions inside of him seem to fizzle out in favor of just… giving Adam what he asked for. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.”

“Try me. Miami’s a weird place… and I know I’ve definitely gotten weirder since living here. I’ve… expanded my horizons, you might say.” Adam’s thumb rubs against the lines of his palm, sending a tiny frisson of energy that only serves to remind Matt how  _ hungry _ he is.

“I…” Matt fights to even think against the hunger that’s trying to swallow him. He can’t really, so, he does what feels natural. He lets his glamour fade and it’s like exhaling a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. He waits for Adam to scream as he shuts his eyes.

“Ohhhhh, Mattie,” Adam sighs, his voice suddenly taking on a resonant and sultry tone that makes it almost a moan. The other man slides his left hand up Matt’s arm to his other shoulder, before making a single cat-like movement into Matt’s lap. “Look at  _ you _ . I knew there was something different about you. Today in particular.”

Matt is startled for a moment before he just—let’s Adam’s warm words wash over him. “What…?”

Adam presses up against Matt, letting their erections grind together with a hedonistic groan. “You changed. That tells me what  _ you _ need. You showed me yours… I’ll show you mine.” Adam does a slow shudder, letting his glamour fall like it’s a robe falling off him, long horns appearing from his forehead, skin shifting to an all-over crimson blush.

“Adam…” Matt’s words seem stuck in his throat as his brain tries to sort out what he’s looking at. His own horns feel heavy on his head and his eyes are tired. “What—what happened?” Things start connecting slowly in his as he asks, trying not to sound dumbfounded.

“We’re both demons, Matt. We were hiding it from each other. But… I think there’s a lot we don’t have to hide any more.” He brings his head forward so his horns gently fall into the curves of Matt’s antlers. “You look so, so good like this, bay bay.”

It makes sense. It makes too much sense all of a sudden and even as the sensation of Adam’s compliment runs through him, he tries to keep his mind focused. “You…” Adam’s ego, his infatuation with men and women that catch his eye in equal measure—that’s what turned him. He should have known. “It’s not pride.”

“No. It isn’t.” Adam smiles as he reaches forward to press a kiss to Matt’s lips and rocks his hips forward again. “Hehh…”

“Mmmm.” Matt’s mind washes over with warmth and he lets his fingers dance along Adam’s waist, his crop top showing just the right amount of skin. “You… please tell me how good I look. I need it.”

Adam squeezes Matt’s shoulders, gently rocking against him for friction and mouthing against his lips. “Been trying to… get you to notice me for months. I thought maybe… you didn’t want me like I tried to act like I wanted you. You’d gotten so hot recently, and it was so unfair that you were single… unfair because a beautiful man like you needs to be taken care of--you should never need for anything. I’m Adam Cole, baybay. I just… want you to want me like I want you…”

Matt feels the glow against his skin and it feels like his soul is being nourished. He should be embarrassed that he’s had to ask for this, that he couldn’t just get what he needed with a look and a smirk. But… It doesn’t matter now. He presses his lips to Adam’s again and slides his claws around to his back.

\--

“Babe, I’m telling you, this place is  _ perfect _ . You’re gonna love it. Fully furnished, in our price range, the works.” The excited red-haired man turns back to his boyfriend, arms spread wide. “It even has--get this!--a  _ sectional _ . Eh? Ehhh?” He smiles wider, as if daring the other man to disagree.

Kevin Owens isn’t exactly known for his exuberant attitude. He’s trying to keep his comments to himself, but his boyfriend makes it hard. The place doesn’t look  _ bad  _ exactly, but he’s not entirely thrilled with the thought of sitting on other people’s furniture that’s been in there for god-only-knows how long. “Come on, Sami.” He sighs, but it’s filled with love. “This is what I get for not looking at the listings with you, isn’t it?” 

“Oh, Kev… come onnn! Don’t be such a  _ square _ , gosh. Nobody wants some… boring old generic apartment, right? And you said you hated that studio, so that was out.” Sami comes back, throwing an arm around Kevin. “I mean, look at the palm trees. And-and the pool! And we’re right by the water… I mean look at this  _ lawn _ !”

“Lawn? It’s a patch of grass and it’s probably filled with fire ants or whatever the fuck they have down here—and did you just call me a square?” Kevin side-eyes Sami, but he does nothing to move out of his grip. 

“I love youuu,” Sami leans in and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

Kevin grumbles but again, he does nothing to stop Sami. “You’re the worst.”

“Aw, come on. Let’s go test out the bed.”

—

“Kenny? Kenny, are you in here?” Adam knows he doesn’t always knock loud enough to let Kenny know he’s coming in, but opening the door to Kenny’s condo and seeing almost no decoration is always a jarring experience.

He hears Kenny whistling from the kitchen, and as he walks forward and sees Kenny blissfully unaware of him and sweeping the floor with a broom from the breakfast nook cutout in the entry hall.

“Kenny.” Adam knocks on the wall to get his attention. “Everything okay? You cleaning your already spotless kitchen?” He smiles, leaning against the doorway. 

“The kitchen--spilled some, uh, Ocean Spray. Made a whole mess.” Kenny looks up, hair a pile of disheveled frizzy curls, before he straightens up, puffs out his chest, and smoothes back his hair with a tired but relieved smile at Adam. “What brings you over here today?”

“Just looking for you. You need some help? You look tired.” Adam’s smile drops a little when he sees the darkening circles under Kenny’s eyes.

“No, no, I’m, uh, I’m fine. Better! Seeing you here, actually.” A beat. “Your hair looks really nice today. Sorry you probably can’t say the same about me.” Kenny sets the broom against the fridge.

“Alright. Hair compliments are nice, but is something going on? You seem really frazzled and I didn’t hear from you yesterday so… here I am.” Adam motions to all of him as he walks around, before leaning against the side of the breakfast nook.

“Oh, sorry, I got, uh… there was this really bad stain in the tub? I was having a really bad day with Warzone, and then I went to clean the bathroom instead, and… I mean, you know all about soap scum, right? It’s so… stubborn!” Kenny moves the broom aside, considering it for a moment before setting it to the side and opening the fridge. “You want a drink? I’ve got Monster Zero Ultraaaa…”

Adam raises an eyebrow, nodding slowly before he steps forward and takes Kenny by the shoulders, steering him away from the fridge. “No, no Monster Energy. Let’s get you a shower and a nap.”

“Wait, waitwaitwait, Adam what are you--” Adam luckily has the element of surprise, and manages to get him halfway to the bedroom before he starts digging his heels in. “--I’m fine, really!” He leans his head over to rub his stubble on Adam’s hand. “Can’t we… talk about this? On the couch?”

“Kenny. I’m just saying that you’ll feel better after a shower and a nap. This isn’t that serious.” Adam scrunches his face up a little as Kenny worms out of his grip. “Unless there is something else you wanna tell me? Did you get a bad death sign or somethin’? Not for nothing, but the bags under your eyes don’t scream ‘I’m having a bad day playing video games’.”

“No, it hasn’t been a death sign… I just… I feel like I’m. God, I don’t even know how to describe it. Stuck in a bad loop.” Kenny sighs and slowly trods into the bedroom to sit on his bed.

“Uh. A bad loop?” Adam scratches at his beard, confused for a moment before he follows after Kenny. “Wanna try and explain. Even if it’s not something I can understand right away?”

“It’s like… I’m having nightmares, I don’t want to sleep, but I don’t remember anything?” Kenny rests his head on Adam’s shoulder.

“And they aren’t death signs? I mean if you don’t wanna talk about it, I get it.” Adam sighs and rubs Kenny’s back. “But I think maybe you shouldn’t keep it to yourself?”

Kenny laughs, a little hoarsely. “I don’t know what there is to talk about, Adam. I don’t  _ remember _ anything.”

“So you have nightmares, and you don’t remember them… but they leave you feeling like shit and then you don’t wanna sleep? I got everything?” 

  
  


“Yyyup! Pretty much. God, I’m a mess.”

“Did this just start? Because I saw you three days ago and…” Adam remembers them falling asleep together on the couch and Kenny didn’t seem to be suffering from any nightmares. “Okay listen… I know Death did  _ something _ ,” he gestures at all of Kenny, “but you think Vengeance knows?”

“I mean… I don’t think there’s any Vengeance any more… other than me. I mean,  _ I’m  _ Vengeance, I have the power, I have the drive… what else is there?”

“Maybe that’s it then.  _ You  _ have the power,  _ you _ control what happens. I know I’ve been trying to not think about the thing that lives inside of me until everything else is dealt with but…” Adam falls backward onto Kenny’s unmade bed. “If you wanna try and figure it out, maybe Death knows.” 

“Adam… You’re scared of Death, aren’t you? I don’t want you to have to do that. There’s got to be some other way…” Kenny looks over at him, blue eyes wide.

Adam stares at the ceiling for a moment before he finds the words. He’s still not even sure he has them, honestly. He  _ is  _ scared of Death. How could he not be? But… “You weren’t scared of Vengeance and honestly, there was some stuff going on there that I’m not even sure about.” Even after whatever happened on the beach that day, Adam knows the darker part of Kenny, the one that smirked at him like he wanted to devour him is still in there somewhere.

“I mean, I kind of was. Wasn’t I?” Kenny flops back on the bed. “I don’t know, I’m really tired…”

“Well, let’s try this.” Adam kisses Kenny on the cheek before propping himself up with his arm. Kenny’s eyes look so tired. “I’ll be here with you. Just try and nap, I’ll be here if anything happens.”

“Okay. Okay. You’re Death, you wouldn’t let anything happen…” Kenny’s voice is already fading as he crawls toward the pillows like a sleepy puppy.

Adam smiles a little tightly at Kenny’s confidence in him, but he can’t help but reassure him anyway. “I’ll be right here.”

“Mmmhm,” the blond man says, his heavy eyes finally falling closed.

Adam crawls over next to Kenny and pulls out his phone. Now’s as good a time as any to resume reading a book about different death and afterlife-related myths.

\--

Adam looks around him after finishing the book, and he hadn’t even noticed the sun go down to the point where the window is dark aside from the hazy glow from the street lights. Kenny’s still asleep, and he really has to pee, so he gets up to go to the bathroom.

The light flicking on automatically startles him, and the blue glow of the LED lights is almost sickly. Adam remembers Kenny talking about the tub, and he feels compelled to go over and look at it.

Just to make sure weird Vengeance urges didn’t make him scour a hole in it or something. That’s all.

He pulls the shower curtain aside, and all he sees is a perfectly-clean tub. The blue light reflects in the pristine, shiny porcelain. “Okay. Sorry I doubted you, Kenny,” Adam says, nodding to himself with a shrug.

He turns around to pee, and starts to head to the toilet before stopping and turning on his heel. He has to look at the tub again.

Adam pulls back the curtain, and the tub drain gurgles before erratic lines of glowing black start crawling out of the drain.

“Holy shit…” Adam grimaces, sliding the curtain back shut again before stepping back to try and process what he’s just seen. He’s somehow seen far weirder, yet something about the nature of whatever the fuck just crawled out of the drain makes his skin crawl. He takes a second to take a breath before pulling back the curtain quickly again.

He immediately feels a sharp pain in his chest, and looks down--

_ FUCK _

Adam startles awake and his heart feels like it’s trying to escape his chest. It takes him a second before he remembers to breathe and when he does, the pain he thought he felt a moment ago is an echo inside of his chest.

“Fuckin’  _ weird _ \--” It’s a gasp as Adam tries to catch his breath, each lungful helping the stabbing ghost recede from his chest.

He scrubs at his face before he finally manages to look over at Kenny who is still sleeping soundly. At least… at least it seems like he’s gotten some rest.

He should probably get up and really pee this time, fuck.

“Weird-ass fuckin’ dreams….” He slides off of the bed and makes his way to the bathroom, not even thinking about the tub as he finally takes care of what he needs to. Maybe that’s why he had a weird dream, something about strange urges in the middle REM sleep rattles around in his brain for a moment before he heads to the sink to wash his hands.

As he shakes dry, he sighs, because he knows he isn’t gonna be able to settle back down unless he checks the drain. “I just wanna state, for the record, that I hate this,” he says to the empty bathroom, before walking over.

Yet again, and for the first time, he pulls open the curtain--

His stomach lurches when he sees those same black lines already bubbling out of the drain and staining the white porcelain. He feels sick for a moment and grabs the wall to steady himself.

The air is thick with the stench of death--not things dying, but like the tang in his nose he gets from a death sign, the sweat down his spine when he knows someone’s going to die, the heaviness of the air from violence yet to come.

How long has Kenny been exposed to this? Has he been trying to clean this up? Has this been causing his nightmares? Adam compulsively leans closer, and an even stranger thing happens; the lines twitch away from him before quickly receding down the drain in a way that makes his stomach turn. Adam takes a few steps back, mind trying to focus on getting out of the room before he tastes blood in his mouth and  _ feels _ the skin on his left hand itch horribly before it almost starts to burn away. 

“Kenny!” He yells at the sleeping man when he finally makes it out, the skin on his face beginning to itch in the same way.

“Did… did you see it too…?” Kenny rolls over slowly, his whole body shuddering, and Adam looks at his eyes so wide he can see the whites before the shudder runs up Kenny’s spine and he breaks into loud, skull-splitting laughter.

“Kenny…” Adam’s takes a slow step backward, the loud and horrifically resonant laughter making him grit his teeth and if he wasn’t in pain, he’d be covering his ears with his hands.

“You didn’t believe me, that something was wrong, did you?” Kenny reaches a hand toward him across the bed, before groaning and crawling towards Adam like an animal.

“We’ve gotta go.” Adam reaches for Kenny’s arm, stopping short when he sees his own skeletal hand, flesh torn but not bleeding. His jaw aches and his  _ teeth  _ hurt and he almost falls over when he tries to move backward and away from Kenny.

Kenny’s hand shoots out, grabbing the hand and rubbing his thumb gently over the flesh as Adam notices a thin plum of purple smoke swirling around his wrist.

The skin on his hand peels away almost effortlessly as Kenny works and his grip becomes like a vice when Adam tries to pull it away again. He can’t process this, it’s too much— “Let go of my fucking hand… we’re—we’re getting out of here.” He tries to steel his resolve.

“I’m not leaving… not with you like  _ that _ ,” Kenny grates out, gasping for ragged breath.

“Like  _ what? _ ” Adam shouts, spying his phone out of the corner of his eye. If he can just get enough distance to call Matt or Nick…

“Do you trust me?” The blond man stands from the bed, his blue eyes now glowing red.

“Tell me what the fuck is going on!?” Adam feels panic just rip through his chest when Kenny lets his hand go.

“Adam, just… accept it. You’re not… who you used to be.” Kenny leans in, purple smoke leaking out of his mouth before he blows a cloud in Adam’s face.

This isn’t right… he  _ fixed  _ this. Death  _ fixed _ it. He made Kenny and Vengeance one… Adam blinks as the smell of myrrh enters his nose again and then he can’t think.

“N-no. It’s…” Adam feels the thought slip away as he tries to grab onto it. Thoughts of magic and caustic black lines in the bathtub dripping through the fresh holes in him.

Kenny takes a breath and then leans in to kiss Adam, sliding his tongue in to feed Adam that sickly-sweet smoke.


	12. Duality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one is just one thing. But eventually, you have to make a choice--or one will be made for you. Hunter, or hunted? God, or puppet? Best friend... or lover?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you all. Buckle up.

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 12: Duality**

\--

**ONE WEEK LATER**

\--

The haze of the city makes the night sky look like it’s cracking. Deep black melting into orange, blending into pink—each color swallowing the stillness of it all. Matt usually doesn’t take too much time to reflect. Being alone for long stretches of time make his anxieties buzz loudly in his ears—a static in his brain that he just can’t shut off. 

Or, well, that’s what his brain used to feel like in the quiet. Until Adam Cole wrapped him up in an embrace that made Matt’s whole body tingle, and then told him he was  _ wanted _ . It’s been a week, and he’s spent more of his time at the Raleigh Hotel than he’s spent at home. Some part of him was hoping, at the start of the week, that Nick would try to pull him back to what used to be reality. Matt doesn’t remember why he wanted that, now, only that he can remember wanting it. He doesn’t know why he’d possibly want to go back.

Thankfully, it seems like his calmness has bled into his brother as well. Maybe Matt looks better, well-rested. Maybe Nick can see the peace that’s come over him. Whatever the reason, it’s what brings them both to the beach outside of the historic Art Deco resort. 

“It’s almost nice if you forget about the hellmouth.” Matt laughs into the humid night air.

“Yeah. It is cool-looking.” Nick squints into the sunset. “Have to wonder how they got themselves this whole deal. Britt’s only been in Miami a few years, right?”

“I mean. It’s obvious, right? Someone made a deal.” Matt sinks back a little into the soft sand.

“Yeah. Guess so.” A beat. “So, things going good with AC, then?”

“That’s what I can’t figure out.” Matt lets out a long sigh. “When I think about it, yeah. Things are going great. But…” he’s got a sinking feeling he can’t shake. Something he can’t put words to, but it’s there. “I don’t know. Maybe I just don’t know what it’s like to get something you want.”

“You seem like you’ve been… feeding good.” Nick’s got a weird expression on his face, one Matt can’t really parse.

“What does that mean? I’ve been… I’ve just been trying to take care of myself.” Matt raises an eyebrow at his brother. “You’re doing okay, right?” He’d know if Nick wasn't. They are brothers, after all.

Nick sighs, before bending down and sitting in the sand.

Maybe Nick isn’t okay…

“Fuck… I’ve been paying too much attention to my bullshit.” He puts his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, little brother.”

“It’s fine, dude. I mean… you’ve spent a lot of time by yourself. You deserve it. It’s just… I’ve kinda been lonely, I guess. Everybody else has somebody.”

“Well. I’m not a matchmaker or anything, but I’ll always listen. You know that. Is there anyone you’ve got your eye on? I mean not even like romantically or anything just… to be with?”

“Aw, dude, you don’t gotta… I’ll figure stuff out, you know?” Nick leans back, letting his hands sink deep under the sand. “Just… go enjoy your time with Cole or whatever. I don’t want to be the one who holds you back.”

“No, dude, it’s not like that.” Matt scoots a little closer, throwing his arm around Nick’s shoulders. It’s never like that. Push came to shove, it would be them against the world. No matter what. “You’re not holding me back. I want you to be happy, this shouldn’t be some stupid balancing act where I get my shit together finally and you feel left out in the cold. Listen. Come back to the resort with me. Adam is just hanging out, he makes really good mocktails… even puts those little umbrellas in them. We’ll all hang out, it will be like old times.”

Nick takes a deep breath, his shoulders heaving. Sometimes Matt doesn’t think Nick realizes how much he means--how Matt prayed like hell for a younger sibling, and almost didn’t get one at all. “Okay. When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound as much like a crazy sex mansion.” Nick’s signature smirk slides back onto his face.

“You said it, not me!” Matt rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but laugh. “Lust can be other stuff too, just like Pride or whatever. No crazy sex mansion. Just three friends hanging out like we used to.”

“I mean. I do miss that.” His brother sighs, rolls his blue eyes, then pushes himself up. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

\--

The next day, Chuck Taylor shields his eyes from the high noon sun that’s shining down bright. Trent really did pick a perfect place; all the green plants and the lighthouse-shaped guard station of Haulover Park really do scream Miami. He realizes he’s getting lost in his own thoughts, though, and clears his throat.

“You know… this doesn’t have to be any different from like any other time we’ve done this, right?” Chuck pushes himself up a little further on the hood of Trent’s van, contemplating his double cheeseburger before he finally turns to Trent who’s sitting beside him. “Like for real, dude.”

“I know, but… this time, we’re  _ boyfriends _ . I… you sure it doesn’t feel any different to you?” Trent picks out a fry from its holder. “Like, should I feed this to you or something?” The noise of a dog barking cuts through the ambiance of the surf crashing against the beach, and he has to smile.

“Dude… please don’t. Like, I don’t know what I want this to be exactly yet. But I know it isn’t that.” Chuck shakes his head and he has to stop himself from laughing. Maybe it shouldn’t be funny, but it is. All this time and finally  _ now _ it gets weird. Or at least weird feeling. “Two weeks ago you would have thrown that at me, and honestly, I don’t think that should change.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry, this is… weird, for me. Like, I want to do this right.” Trent sighs. “I know you haven’t exactly… dated since. You know.”

“Oh I know. Trust me. I know.” Chuck sighs and leans back on the windshield. “I think it’s just gonna be a little complicated. Gonna take some work or whatever, I’m trying to be mature about it. It’s important.” It’s more important than maybe Trent even knows. “I’m just saying that there is so much other weird shit going on that I don’t want this,” he motions to Trent with his cheeseburger. “To be weird too.”

“Okay, okay. Fair. Maybe I made it weird by… I mean, I guess I was the one that suggested eating on the hood like we’re in American Graffiti or some shit.”

“You did suggest it, dude.” Chuck smiles a little before taking a bite of his burger. “But it’s nice up here,” he says through a mouthful. “You know if you forget about the hellmouth and all that bullshit.”

“Yeah, well. I wanted to try to make it a little romantic, but… I guess it turned out alright. Because you’re right. No bullshit up here. Just… the sun, and the palm trees, and the beach… and the little dogs running around. Perfect.”

“Yeah. And… I guess you’re here, so it’s good like that too.” Chuck gives Trent a look and a mischievous grin before digging back into his food. Honestly, he hasn’t known how to feel since they didn’t exactly confess anything as much as  _ stumble  _ onto what was already going on. They didn’t talk at all really, outside of mumbled words while they--

Well, maybe they should talk about that too. 

Chuck wipes the crumbs of burger bun off the corners of his mouth before leaning back a little further on the hood, and whistling as he looks out at the golden hour light on the water.

“So. How are you doing with this?” Trent finally asks after a few seconds of silence between them.

The whistling immediately stops. “--I mean, the van’s pretty great, you know I like your van, dude--” Chuck stammers, scrunching up his face as he scratches at the top of his head. Trent knows it’s something he does when he’s nervous and fidgety.

“No I mean…” Trent asks again.

Chuck keeps scratching. “Wait, you’re talking about the whole… technical part of the dating thing, aren’t you.”

“I mean… should we, not?”

“No, it’s just… it is weird to have to talk about this stuff. Or feel like we need to. I don’t want to go back, but like, I do wish it didn’t cause this weird awkward feeling in the pit of my stomach that is  _ definitely _ not the same thing as being horny.”

“Yeah,” Trent agrees with a nervous laugh, “definitely not. So, okay… normal stuff. We can just do normal stuff.” Trent has no idea what that is suddenly, but he knows that if that’s what Chuck wants then that’s what he’s gonna do.

“I just want to do all the same stuff we  _ used _ to do, but with more smoochin’ and stuff. And, uh, a fuck every now and again. On days when we’re vibing or like after the hormones kick in.” 

Trent rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but smile anyway. “You’re still an ass. I hope you know that.” He chucks a fry at Chuck before shoving a few in his mouth. 

Chuck sits up, running his hands all over trying to find the wayward fry before eating it. “What? It’s the truth! Don’t call me an ass, ass, I was trying to be honest and open up to you and all that shit.”

“I got it, I got it. And that’s nice. Just don’t get me going when we’re out here is all. I don’t think I’m ready to be having sex in the van.”

“I didn’t mean now, geez! I’m not… I’m not gonna do any of that shit, just to be cute. If I wanna kiss, I’m gonna tell you I wanna kiss. If I’m horny, I’m gonna tell you I’m horny. I don’t think it’s fair for me to like… expect you to magically know, when we got really good at hiding it from each other for so long. Because… I love you.” Chuckie breaks out into a smile, and it’s honestly so bright. “God. That feels good to finally admit to myself.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it. Not really and… I love you too, Chuckie. God.” Trent wipes his greasy fingers on his t-shirt. “Everything happens so much all the time.”

“You know I could lick the grease off your fingers if you would find that sexy.” Chuck smirks at him.

“Dude. I swear to God.” Trent takes a deep yet shaky breath. “Eat your damn cheeseburger.” 

They both laugh in the quietness after that, leaning against each other, and for a moment, everything doesn’t suck.

\--

_ Matt. I’ve called your phone 8 fucking times. I need you to come over to Kenny’s right NOW. It’s a fucking emerg— _

Adam fumbles with his phone as he scrubs at his eyes. He can hear Kenny whistling that resonant, almost hypnotic song of his down the hall outside the bedroom. He’s on his way back and Adam knows that the clear-headed feeling he has in the moment won’t last much longer. He pushes his phone under the pillow, the feeling of it on his half skeletal fingers making him cringe.

“ _ Deeeeeeee _ -aaaaaath, babe. You up? I brought you some strawberries and cream.” Kenny peeks around the corner of the door, only visible because his eyes are glowing. All the blackout blinds are drawn, and Adam knows that if they turned the light on, the floor would be covered in inky black lines. But they can’t get rid of the lines. The lines… the lines are good.

Except 

they

**aren’t.**

“Darlin’.” Adam’s mind is full of words and thoughts and impulses that are his, but feel so sticky. He sits up a little more, swaddled in Kenny’s sheets which are also stained with dark blood from the gaping hole in his face. He’s… trying not to think about it. “Let’s go back to sleep.” 

“No, no, no. You need to eat. And, since we don’t have any souls handy… these strawberries will have to do.” Kenny slips into bed and caresses a thumb along the exposed teeth in Adam’s cheek before whispering, “Open up.”

He lets out a shaky breath and does as Kenny asks, feeling too sharp teeth in his mouth the moment he recognizes they are there. At least the strawberry is good and real and something he can focus on. “Nice of you to bring these to me in bed. Should have figured you for a romantic.” Small talk. It’s an art he never really mastered, but if he can keep Kenny from generating more of that smoke he can keep his wits about him long enough to maybe get a hold of Matt and Nick.

“Well, you seemed awful tired.  _ ‘Darlin.’  _ Guess you didn’t quite expect the workout we ended up getting, did you?” Kenny runs a strawberry along the line of Adam’s navel up to his sternum, the skin feeling so tender and itchy there, too.

Adam shivers hard. It’s a game of thinking five steps ahead of whatever is going to happen next and he feels like he’s rapidly failing at it. “Always full of surprises.” He manages as his eyes stay glued to Kenny’s fingers. “This… was all a bit unexpected.”

“But doesn’t it feel good? To let Death out a little? He’s still hiding inside you a bit… but I think we can bring him out eventually…” Kenny holds the strawberry up to Adam’s lips, as he bends down to scrape tongue and now-pointed canine teeth along the juice trail he left. 

It doesn’t help; it just makes Adam’s skin itch more. 

Adam tells himself mentally to just keep a clear head. He knows about the lines. He knows about Kenny’s uncanny ability to just make him throw caution to the wind. If he  _ knows _ he can reason himself out of it. Unlike Kenny, who has been unglued from reality it seems. He takes a stab in the dark after he takes the strawberry Kenny offered. “What… do you want, Kenny?”

“I want you to  _ let go _ , Adam. I think… thou doth protest too much.” Kenny traces fingers lightly across Adam’s shoulders, down his biceps, across his pecs, and finally scraping nails across his nipples, making him shudder and hold back a moan. “Will it  _ really _ be so bad to let Death out? What are you afraid of, hmm? I just…” He leans close and taps Adam’s sternum, right over the heart. “Want. You. To. Be… happy.” He sighs, purple swirls of smoke surrounding Adam once again and making his head spin.

Focus. It’s all about keeping focused. 

“Everyone… is going to be worried about us.” Adam manages as the itching under his skin gets almost unbearable and the smoke in his nose makes his body feel so hot.

“Who?” Kenny coos, sliding a hand around the back of Adam’s head and feeding him another strawberry, that smoke intensifying. “You seem unhappy… there’s just me and you, babe. Vengeance and Death. Let the rest of the world go… just for a moment. Even Gods need their rest before the work can begin.”

“Your friends, Kenny.  _ Our _ friends. What happens…” It’s getting harder and harder to think, but Adam tries to push through it. “What happens if we let go and we can’t come back? It doesn’t feel like a choice. I--” He looks at his hand, flesh so torn. “I am falling apart  _ literally _ .” A literal manifestation of everything he’s felt for months.

“Adam… I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s only ever been you and me, since we met. That’s all that’s mattered.”

The lines, scraping across Adam’s brain. Faces… their friends. What were their faces?

“What are you worried about, Adam? Tell me so I can fix it for you.” Kenny smiles, showing both sets of pointed canines, before letting his too-long, too-blue tongue loll out of his mouth. Did Kenny always look like this? Was his hair always turning black, were his eyes always glowing red? It looks so good on him… his hands feel so good as they rub Adam’s chest and collarbones, sloughing skin off. “You have to fall apart so you can be reborn,  _ silly _ .”

“Y-yeah.” Adam is overwhelmed with sensation and his skin being peeled away feels so…  _ good.  _ Like Kenny is unwrapping a gift and making the itching stop  _ finally _ . “I’m gonna get help… I promise… I’ll…” The words stop as he feels the skin on the other side of his face  _ rip. _

“Oh… Death…” Kenny shakes his head. “You already got help. You made yourself brand new. We’ll keep working on you… but don’t you think you deserve a new look to go along with this new you?” Kenny’s form almost seems to fluctuate, his  _ body _ turning smokey and seeming to melt into the shadows around him as Adam’s vision fills with purple. “I love you. No matter what. Mortal or immortal… but don’t you think you deserve to become your true self… to shed your cocoon and become a  _ God _ ?”

The last coherent thought Adam has, is that whatever these lines are, whatever wormed its way into Kenny’s mind and broke the bonds he weaved together and the  _ rules  _ they had in place… he’s going to find whatever it is,  _ whoever _ it is and make them  _ pay. _

\--

Trent and Chuck almost run into Orange when they open the door to their apartment after returning home from their date, and he’s standing there.

“Dude, you okay?” Trent asks, concerned. “We coulda really hurt you…”

“Adam and Kenny. It’s bad,” he says in his usual flat tone by way of explanation.

“Bad like,  _ oh they are having another fight  _ bad, or like…” Chuck stops himself as if he already answered his own question.

“It’s on the TV.” Orange steps aside, but the inhuman, animal moaning tells Chuck all he needs to know.

“Oh fuck. Uh… hope you uh… weren’t watching whatever the fuck is going on there for too long.” Chuck steps past him, shielding his eyes from the TV. “Is there someone we can call? Can we leave a hint?”

“I watched before it went R-rated. We could try calling the brothers, but they’re currently being tempted by lust demons.” Orange sighs. “Thankfully that vision wasn’t as bad as what’s on the TV right now. Just a lot of… petting.”

“Fuckin’ yikes, dude. Why is this place so fucked up.” It’s a rhetorical question. Chuck thinks for a moment and then snaps his fingers as he wills another idea into his brain. “Wait, what about Mox? He’s got connections with Kenny. I bet he could figure out what’s going on and stop it.”

“Haven’t checked in with him for a while,” Orange says. “Think we could steer the picture?”

“I think it’s worth a shot.” Trent chimes in. “Because if those two go off the rails,” he glances at the TV. A mistake. “Something bad is gonna happen.”

“Power of three?” Chuck asks, looking around, and despite the noises on the TV, Orange corpses, laughing so hard he falls into Trent’s shoulder.

“Alright,” Trent wraps his arm around Orange and then Chuck. “Let’s get our Charmed on or whatever the fuck.”

“Aw, shit, I’m no good at rhyming, you know that, Trent--”

Orange cuts him off, chanting, “Fates of three, let it be, see the hunter on TV. Fates of three, thread visions rise, Eddie and Mox come to our eyes,” and looks at both of them. “Again.”

Trent makes a face, but he ultimately does as he’s asked, closing his eyes this time and pulling Orange and Chuck tighter. 

_ “Fates of three, let it be, see the hunter on TV. Fates of three, thread visions rise, Eddie and Mox come to our eyes.” _

“Sorry,” Orange mutters quickly, “it was the best I could do on short notice--”

The vision on their TV shifts like an old VHS adjusting tracking, static and rainbow colors shifting until the sound resolves into Eddie’s voice.

\--

“Alright, Mox.” Eddie sighs, wrenching Mox’s truck into park before turning to him and leaning against the steering wheel. “We’re here. You ready, brother? Got everything?”

Beyond them, the condos where everything broke so bad before look normal, stark off-white in the bright Miami afternoon light.

“Can’t blame me for not wanting to fuck around out here again, but yeah, I got everything.” Or at least as much as he knows they need. The funny thing about the supernatural is, that you can only be prepared for so much. Dealing with monsters and Gods and everything in between is always a gamble. Half of them aren’t as bad as life would lead you to believe and the other half aren’t worth knowing.

“Okay. I got my shit. Let’s go do this before the sun starts to set. Afternoon is the best time, ‘ccording to that mythology book Reba was able to steal for us.” Eddie hauls himself out of the truck and pulls his duffel bag of supplies out from under the seat before slamming the door. “You sure you’re good? We… if you’re not ready, you gotta let me know.”

“Eddie. This is my mess, I gotta clean it up.” Mox slides out of the truck, his bad hand taped up to high heaven even though that’s not doing much to hide it. “Can’t do this without you, but I’m not even half of what I usually am. This should help. Hopefully.”

“Yeah. Let’s, uh, go ahead and put these wreath things on.” Eddie pulls out the necklace of woven thyme from the back and slips it on. “I feel ridiculous already.”

“Yeah. I mean you don’t look half bad, but I wasn’t gonna say anything.” Mox shakes his head and takes his own, slipping it on. “The fae are bad news. I’d take a demon turned feral before dealing with this shit.” 

“Yeah, and this isn’t gonna be pretty even once it’s done, but… we need you whole if we’re gonna fix this whole fuckin’ mess.” Eddie pulls Mox’s well-worn pistol out from the box underneath the seat, loads a clip, and cocks it before slipping it in the back of his pants with a practiced motion. He grabs the hem of his shirt and adjusts it, before turning around to face Mox with the tight half-smirk he uses when trying to make the best of a bad situation. “Does this piece doesn’t make my ass look fat?”

Mox laughs shortly. “Fuck off.” Eddie knows that guns are an emergency use only item, but he’s not gonna say no now that they are in this situation. “We shouldn’t even need that. Everything goes according to plan, we will be in and out.”

“I know, I know. But you were the one that suggested it. Alright.” Eddie takes another deep breath, and Mox steels himself. “Let’s burn this fucker out.”

Mox pushes his good hand in his pocket so he can  _ feel _ the metal of the lighter. “After you.”

They walk apprehensively from the parking lot, down the sidewalk, and to the green space Mox barely remembers from a week ago. Even in the light of the sun, there’s something sinister about it. Maybe it's the stark white condos still in the back of all this empty space, or maybe it's something else. 

“So, we gotta look for that circle I burned with the salt… That was where you came out of it at.”

“Was pretty fucking worse for wear at the time, but don’t think I’m ever gonna forget being trapped in a damn maze of mirrors.” Jon is cautious as they move forward into what seems like an empty field. “What I don’t get, is that it didn’t answer me at all. I tried to play by the rules, asked for a reason… but it just jumped straight to whatever the hell it was trying to accomplish.”

“Maybe you just got trapped in the crossfire. Maybe it had to draw a wide net… because of all the other fuckin’ magic in Miami. Have to admit, I don’t know much about fae, trickster spirits, whateva. Kinda out of my personal wheelhouse. Guess that’s true for you too, eh?”

“Messing with something that just wants to fuck with you, yeah. Not something that’s really up my alley. Most things have a purpose, they want something. I don’t think this wanted anything, at least not from me.”

“No… did the witches say anything about what you told them you saw?”

“Just that it was pretty easily identifiable as fae. Which is more than I got before, but hell if I don’t like taking my marching order from anyone.” Jon feels a bit of a chill race up his spine as he steps into some of the taller grass. “Here. It’s somewhere around here.”

Eddie looks around, stumbling through the grass. “Did they decide to just not mow here this week? This would be so much easier if this shit was short like it was last week…”

“It ain’t that. This is magic. New plant growth where there wasn’t any before--whose grass grows this damn fast?”

“Fuck, you’re right.” Eddie’s hand reaches toward his back. “You think they’re here?”

“If they are, shootin em’ isn’t gonna help.” Jon raises his clawed hand at Eddie. “Let’s do what we came here to do and cross the other bridge when we get to it.”

“Right. Right.” Eddie shakes himself. “Your vision get any better along with that hand?”

“Vision’s still shit, but I can sense the energy. It’s at…” Jon takes a few steps forward into the taller grass. “There is a point here—“ he taps the dirt with the toe of his boot. “So the circle should be where all this growth is and ends where it stops.” 

“Nnnrrrrhh, fuck! We don’t have time for this. Sun’s gonna start going down soon--” Eddie shakes himself before snapping his fingers at Mox. “Gimme your knife.”

“What are you gonna do with it?” Jon asks, hand hovering right at the holster for it. “This ain’t the time to be running in headlong to shit, Eddie.”

“A spell, Jon, what, you think I was gonna go all Jumanji with it? Hell no. Now gimme the damn  _ knife _ .”

Jon slides the knife out in one smooth motion and hands it, handle first, to Eddie. “Just. Tell me when it’s gonna fucking hurt.”

Eddie scoffs, taking off the bandana from his belt loop and tying it around his bicep. He winces his eyes shut as he carves the knife into flesh, muttering in Spanish under his breath. As Eddie sits down on the ground, blood drips down from the wound, over his hand and into the earth. 

“You son of a bitch.” Jon shakes his head as he watches Eddie work. A strange thing must have happened while he was away. He would have never taken Eddie for someone who’d learn this kind of magic, but maybe it makes sense considering everything he knows. “Doing blood magic… what else do you know that you’re not telling me?”

“Shh, trying to concentrate--” Eddie drops back to muttering after that, and suddenly like a crack of thunder, his head snaps back, and a wave rolls out from him, the tall grass withering and falling over before the man collapses backwards onto the ground. “There… job’s done…” He wheezes.

“Dammit.” Jon takes a few steps and then he’s on his knees next to Eddie, pulling him upright. “We coulda just spent time burning the damn things, it’s--” He stops himself as he feels static in his mind like someone trying to tune a radio.

_ Jon? Jon!? It’s still--hssss--can’t-- _

“Still gotta… burn the circle…” Eddie groans, pointing towards the barely-visible white tops of mushrooms.

“Oh, I’ll fucking burn it alright.” Jon gives Eddie’s hand a squeeze before shaking open a small drawstring bag and heading over toward the smattering of mushrooms just now showing themselves after the grass had been dealt with. He doesn’t waste time, shaking the ash-like substance over the fungus before lighting the lighter in one flick of the wrist and tossing it onto the ground before him.

“Fuck… the voices are fuckin’  _ pissed _ , dude… I don’t know if that’s the fae or what, but we should get outta here…”

_ \--on, are you there? Damn, I should be there, something’s wrong, I can’t--Jon!! _

“Ry. You there? Can you hear me?” Jon sticks a finger in his ear like it might help him hear better. “I think I got you back.”

_ Jon, oh thank fuck, it is you! Oh, thank Hell, I thought you were gone. I couldn’t find you for a week, and all the flights out of Vegas are sold out because it’s fucking World Poker Series or whatever, and Miami’s too far to teleport without feeding, and-- _

Eddie groans beside him, eyes flickering before they shut.

“Babe. Got an emergency over here, think you can give me something finally so I can get Eddie and I out of here?” Jon scrambles for the bandana on Eddie’s arm and wraps it tightly over the other man’s still bleeding cut.

_ Yeah, I--wait, Jon. I know this isn’t the time, but why am I getting the sense you’re like, at least partially demonic now? I don’t know if I  _ can _ do anything… _

She’s right, it’s not the time. 

“We gotta talk about it later…” Jon holds Eddie’s arm tight, blood soaking through the bandana. “Eddie. You gotta stay with me.” He takes a breath and pats around his back pocket before pulling out two small vials of a purplish fluid. “Don’t make me give you this, it tastes like shit.” His blood, mixed with the blood of an immortal. Kenny never even knew he took it. The best cure in a bad situation.

“Wha? Johnnie… dunno what--so thirsty…” Eddie’s head lolls over in his hands as he tries to hold him up.

“Dammit Eddie.” Even if they are well-versed in all this shit, mixing and matching spells and fucking with the fae is dangerous at the best of times and probably deadly at the worst. He’s not sure he can die anymore, but Eddie certainly can. “Bottoms up, then.” He pops the cork on the vial and holds Eddie’s head before he puts it to his lips.

_ Jon… I know you didn’t have much choice, but he isn’t gonna be happy.... _

It goes down Eddie’s throat smooth, and Eddie drinks it, coughing weakly at the end, but it’s all there.

_ I don’t know if he’s gonna be able to wake up in time… and time’s ticking. You should probably pick him up and go… _

“He can get pissed at me and break my nose later. At least he’s alive.” 

Jon grabs his knife and grabs Eddie, pulling him up into a fireman's carry. He thinks about grabbing his lighter, but he hears the distinct sound of a door creaking open, and a few notes of dissonant piano being played somewhere in the distance. He can’t stick around.

Somewhere, as he climbs in the truck and hefts Eddie into the passenger seat, Jon  _ knows _ he isn’t imagining a voice telling him to smile while it laughs.

\--

“I’m not here to fucking argue with you, just get him some water and some damn peace and quiet.” Mostly, Jon doesn’t mean to be rude, but he can’t help the bluntness in his tone and the urgency behind his words. Eddie’s propped up against that same blue velvet couch that he’d been convalescing on days ago. He’s only just stopped hearing the soft, sharp keys of piano music in his head.

“You should let us ward him at the very least,” the petite, blue-haired woman says, pursing her lips into a frown and adjusting her glasses. Her pale skin almost seems to glow in the moonlight coming through the window. “And you too, but I know  _ that _ is more of a longshot.” 

“My only damn goal was getting him back here alive in one piece. I’ll be fine, if you gotta ward him then do it… after that we need some time  _ alone _ .” Jon has hardly mentioned what exactly he did to get Eddie out of a bad situation, but he’s not sorry and he won’t apologize.

The woman--Jon thinks her name is Leva--huffs, mutters something about the things she does for Reba, before holding her hands above Eddie’s sleeping body and flicking her fingers through increasingly complex and hard to follow hand signals. Nothing visual shows up, but Jon’s ears pop like he’s gone up a whole mountain in a second, and Eddie wakes up.

“What--where--how--”

“All done!” Leva says, chipper, before turning on a heel. “I’ll leave you two alone now.” With that, she waltzes out of the room, leaving Jon alone with a groaning Eddie.

“Rise and shine.” Jon laughs gruffly before walking over and taking a seat next to Eddie. “Tried to bleed out before I got you back here.”

“Yeah, well.” Eddie turns his head to look at Jon, blue-grey eyes haunted by exhaustion not for the first time. “Is it done?”

“I’m back online, if that’s what you’re asking. Circle’s gone. I’m probably fucked, but what’s new.” Jon laughs shortly and leans his head back onto the couch cushion, looking at the ceiling. “Had to get your unconscious ass out of there and probably waited too long to leave.”

“She say anything… ugh, bout your hand?  _ Fuck, everything hurts… _ ”

“Haven’t had a second to talk about it. You were too busy trying to get dead, so I  _ hope _ everything hurts.” Jon doesn’t move. “Doing magic like that and just—bleeding out. Sounds like something a dumbass like me would do. I thought I stopped rubbing off on you  _ years ago. _ ”

“Told you… I don’t matter. I’ve made my bones, I’ve cut my deals, I’ve sold my soul, brother. I’m not a good man--I’m just here to… help make sure you aren’t alone. Make sure you fix this shit.” Eddie groans again as he shifts. “My new tricks are all my bad ideas. Ha haa.”

“Oh fuck off with that bullshit. I ain’t gonna tell you any different than what you already think, because you're stubborn and you won’t believe me anyway… but you’re even bigger of an asshole than I already knew if you  _ actually  _ think you don’t matter here.” Jon sits up a little. He’s as self-deprecating as they come, but he knows where his value is at least.

Eddie just laughs, sniffing, and it’s obvious as he does that he’s only laughing to hide the fact that he’s crying.

Jon does only what he knows how to do, he slings his arm around Eddie and pulls him in close, pressing his lips to his shaved head. “You gotta know that I can’t do this alone. I need you here.”

“I know--I just… I’m just a guy, you know? I just… thought maybe if I did all I could, it could make up for all the  _ shit _ I’ve screwed up in my life. Because I’ve screwed up so, so much, Mox… and I’m terrified of screwing this up too. I’ve always lived like… better to burn out than fade away, ya know? And it’s easier, to… to…” Eddie shakes, and screws up his eyes tight.

“You’re talking to the king of bad decisions here.” Jon lifts his demonic hand up. “You fuck up, you own it. You can’t change what you did or how it shook out, but you take it with you. And maybe, just maybe do something better in the future. Maybe we don’t have a chance in hell here, maybe this ends bloody for both of us. But you’re here now and we don’t hate each other anymore, I think, so. I’m taking it.”

“I… I never hated you, Mox. I only ever…” Eddie clutches at Jon’s shirt, balling the Deftones logo in his fist. “God _ damm _ it…” He shakes his head, shaking with sob-laughter again.

Jon lets out a long breath and pulls Eddie in tighter. “It’s okay.” He’s not good at this. “We’ll make it okay.”

“If it has to end… there’s only one person I’d want it to end with, you know what I’m sayin’?” Eddie presses his head to Jon’s chest, and Jon feels his shirt get wet with the other man’s tears. “Lotsa things have changed since you left, but… that hasn’t. Fuck me, it’d be a lot easier if it had. If I coulda just said no to you when you walked in that door, but… there’s only ever been one answer, Mox. Just the one.”

“I’m lucky you’re a stubborn son of a bitch.” Jon says quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head as he holds him close. He remembers being 17 and collapsed in Eddie’s lap, high on the worst kind of homemade speed, rambling about things he doesn’t even remember. But what he  _ does  _ remember is the feeling, the grounded sensation of Eddie holding onto him even though he felt like he was going to melt out of that grip. He just wants to finally repay the debt he feels like he racked up being young and stupid.

“Yeah, well, not gonna let you die on my watch. I don’t need to hear another demon’s voice haunting me…” Eddie’s voice fades out as he starts to drift off in Jon’s arms, and the moment is so uncharacteristically soft that Jon almost doesn’t process what Eddie’s saying.

“I might be a demon,” Jon mumbles. “But I ain’t haunting you. I’m right here.”

“If you die, then you’re a demon stuck on this plane… hate those motherfuckers. So fuckin’ loud all the damn time…” Eddie sighs as he nestles into Jon’s chest.

“You never fucking told me you hear voices, Eddie.” Jon doesn’t move him, he just says the words.

“My mutant power… thought I was crazy most of my life. Till you left and I got on the legal drugs. Didn’t stop anything. All comes from my mom’s side.”

“Nothing’s better if I don’t know. Let me make that choice for myself. I’m not like other hunters,” he wouldn’t even call himself that if there was another name for it. “No zeroing in on good people that don’t deserve the hassle.” Even before his own deal, he was on that path.

“I know that now. I was so scared when you started. I didn’t know what to think, you were just about the only person I… I ever really cared about, and then you was a fighter, a hunter, and I was this crazy motherfucker hearing things that didn’t exist. I dunno. Maybe it was always supposed to end up this way.”

“The system is fucking poisoned, Eddie. Churning out hunters who can’t even fucking think for themselves. Hunting anything that moves all because of some damn ethos… bullshit.” Jon knows that if he ever saw a hunter in Miami, he’d end them before they could even take a breath. Luckily, or maybe not so luckily, Miami eats anyone not strong enough to fight it.

“I don’t know if we can fix the system… but I want to fix us, Mox. I want to fight with you. As long as you’re fightin’.” Eddie looks up, putting his hand on Jon’s jaw and turning him towards Eddie. “You hear me, babe?”

“I hear ya, Eddie. I hear ya.” Jon moves to take Eddie’s face in his hands. Careful with claws he still doesn’t know how to navigate around. “Guess I should stop trying to pretend this damn thing doesn’t exist…”

“Yeah, we gotta take care of--” Eddie growls suddenly. “Can I  _ help _ you? Can’t you see we’re busy?”

“I needed to let you know. We found something on that Vengeance entity…” The blond woman with the fake tan says, twisting a lock of hair as if she’s bored while leaning against the wall at the far side of the room.

“Listen here…” Eddie growls.

“Allie.” The woman crosses her arms in front of a lacy corset that’s more ties than leather.

“Listen here, Allie--”

“Wait,” Jon pulls back just a little. “Did you say Vengeance?”

“Yes,  _ Vengeance _ . As in, the Vengeance you asked our coven to scry for,  _ Eddie _ .” She walks over, heels clicking on the cement floor. “Maybe you would’ve heard me properly the first time if you actually let us heal you instead of deciding it was more important to lay on a couch in pain?”

“Just…” Jon takes a breath. “What’s going on with Kenny?” Suddenly, he has a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Nothing good. Seems like there’s some kind of black magic blocking us from fully sensing him… but we were able to get some kind of scry off before it completely blocked us off. Seems like he’s with some other incarnation, too?” She taps a manicured nail to her chin. “Not sure if you know who that might be.”

“Death.” Jon’s never met him before, but his last conversation with Kenny made it sound like they were actually patching things up. Everything in balance, for once. “This isn’t good. Can you trace the magic? If someone’s trying to fuck with gods...sounds like nasty stuff.”

“We can, but we’ll need to work quickly if that’s something you actually want to pursue. And… we’ll need your help. Ideally something from one of the gods to help us. You have anything like that?”

“Not anything that I won’t need going into this thing.” Jon looks at Eddie. “You don’t have to come, actually you should probably rest, but I know you’re not gonna actually do that so I’m not gonna even ask. This one’s some dangerous business.”

“Mox.” Eddie looks right back at him. “You could use me. To scry. Couldn’t you?”

“Uh, what are you talking about?” Allie interjects.

“Shh. Just--give us a second, okay?” Eddie asks her. “Please, Allie. We’ll be right there. You know I’m good for it.”

“Fine. But only because you’re asking, Eddie.” She smiles tightly before walking away.

When she’s gone, Eddie asks again. “You gave me a god’s blood last night. Didn’t you.”

“Eddie.” Jon shuts his eyes. He doesn’t want a fight. Not now. “Didn’t think I’d have to use it. Didn’t want to use it, but you really tried to fuck yourself over last night.”

“Yeah. I know. I fucked up, real bad. But. Maybe… maybe we can use it for some good. What do you think.”

“You think linking you up to the god of Vengeance while black magic is blocking him from the last scry is a good idea? What if there is bleed?” It’s not even a question about if, it’s about how much.

“Mox… if he is with Death… what does that mean when we kill someone? Unless we fix this?”

“The ecosystem is fucked. That’s what that means. I’m not doing this unless you’re set on it.” Jon tries to be frank. At the worst of times, Kenny seemed unbalanced, at the best, well, Jon’s not sure how a man that good-natured ended up with a mantle like Vengeance. “Kenny’s a bit off sometimes, but he doesn’t deserve whatever someone cooked up for him.”

“Then… this is what you were looking for, right? What’s at the center of all this? And it seems like your guy Kenny is right in the middle of all of it. Somebody doesn’t trap a god unless they really,  _ really  _ want to fuck with something.” Eddie takes his hand. “But don’t listen to me. I’m asking you what you think. Whatever you decide, I’m backin’ you up. Unless you weren’t listening to me for the last hour or whatever.” The man’s eyes are red-rimmed but determined.

“I listened, Eddie. I listened to every word. If you wanna open up that line, it will give us an idea about what we’re looking for. Just… be fucking careful.”

“I trust you. With my life.”


	13. Gates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gates are opened, memories are unearthed, and deals are made. You can’t unring the bell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CWs for this chapter: body horror, magical manipulation of consent (lust demons), and PTSD/panic attack

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 13: Gates**

\--

All Adam can hear is a clock ticking. 

_Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock_

He’s not sure how much time has passed since wandering into Kenny’s apartment, but the longer he’s here, the less he cares. In fact, he’s not sure he cares at all right now. 

He lets his head fall back onto the couch cushions, hardly aware of all those scratchy black lines on the walls and on the floor and practically clinging onto any surface they can find. His phone is forgotten about, his half-written text to Matt forgotten, never sent. Adam takes a breath and his half-exposed rib cage heaves with it. 

He’s… hungry. And it’s an urge he’s been fighting for however long this has been happening. Vaguely aware that he’s not done his job for several days, his needs have shifted into something else. That itch to get souls to their final destination, the urge to help, has mutated into something darker. The energy a soul has, it could do wonders to clear his head right about now. He can taste it.

Vengeance is a half-formed monster, covering the room in an ever-increasing cloud of smoke and darkness. He’s so big that he’s almost all Adam can see… but Adam can still feel the _lines_ . The _lines everywhere_ … Vengeance laughs to himself as he teases Adam with kisses and licks, an infinite number of mouths and eyes and teeth coming into view whenever Adam needs them. To caress, to provide whatever shallow comfort he can offer that is not. Souls.

“Don’t go… stay here…” Kenny whispers. When Adam can think clearly, which is increasingly rare, he can tell there’s something almost… lizard-like in Kenny’s multitudes of blue eyes, slitted like a cat’s until they grow wide and round with delight.

“Hungry.” Adam growls, that singular thought pushing its way forward. “We could…” an inconceivable thought claws up his mind. “eat the humans next door.” He says it nonchalantly. “Just… something quick.”

“Hmmmmmm… together?” Kenny hisses.

“Together.” Adam breaths out, shifting from his space on the couch and feeling the jagged parts of his spine crack back into alignment. 

Kenny surrounds him, whistling through him as that amorphous cloud and the door to Kenny’s condo whisks open.

“They’ve hurt… been hurting. Not taking care of their ailing parents… vengeance. It’s a good thing. We will. Eat. See you later. Alligators.”

“Mmmm.” Adam stands and then he hears a loud noise that makes him recoil. Then smoke is in the room that’s not Kenny—white…?

There is a beat of silence and then Kenny screams. “Witches… hexbag! Where are they! Death! Death, help--!”

“Witches—“ Adam takes a deep breath, can finally actually _breathe_ and then he does it again, grabbing what he can of Kenny and holding on tight. This… this isn’t right. None of this or the horror that’s draped around Kenny right now. His friends…

_MATT_

“Alright! What in the actual fuck is going on in there!?” A loud voice echoes in the living room. He’s never heard it before.

“Moxxxxxxx,” Kenny hisses, a mouth coming unfurled that smiles at the angry man, but his form stays locked in place. “Mmm, Moxxx, you smell diff-erent…”

“Holy shit…”

Adam sees the man Kenny’s spied stop in his tracks. He wasn’t expecting this. He looks like he’s not shocked often.

“Can we… eat him…?” Adam asks. He’s feeling even weaker as the hexbag continues to burn, and he’s so confused without Kenny’s smoke to guide him.

“Kenny. If you’re in there, I’m here to help. You too, cowboy.” Mox takes a very slow step forward. “I don’t wanna hurt anyone.”

“Mox… you are… good at helping… you helped me…” Kenny looks between them, eyes pleading with Adam for help.

“Hungry… Kenny, so hungry…” He feels almost like he could collapse. 

“I am _not_ for eating, dammit. I’ll get you something, we can go for burgers after this. Promise. Just. Take some deep breaths.”

“Needs. Souls. Weak…” Kenny whines. “It hurts Adam--”

“I got the salt if you need it, Mox,” says another man’s voice as he shoves in behind Mox.

“Eddie. Hang on…” Mox puts his hands up. “Kenny, if the cowboy needs energy, I got some. He can have some, just ‘till we clean this up.”

“No… Death… needs ssssouls… not demonssss.”

“I can’t do that, man. You know that.” Mox looks right at Adam and Adam rolls his shoulders. He’s so hungry and so confused. 

“Kenny, who is this?”

“Wasss… hunter. Friend. Helped when we were ssseparated. Now… demon? No, not...” Kenny cocks what passes for a head right now at the red-headed man.

Demon, demon… Adam’s mind scrambles to connect dots, but all he has is a name. Matt… but no that’s wrong. 

“Just something… small… I just need something to _eat._ ” 

He feels the man at the door, Mox, take another few steps. 

“I have something that will help, but you gotta trust me, okay? Just trust me. Kenny, can you do that?” 

“Yesss… but make the angry bag go away. It’s too bright. It… hurtsss.” 

“In just a second.” 

Adam watches as Mox walks toward them, nodding to the other man he’s hardly noticed, who _smells_ like Kenny does. 

“Eddie. This place is a fucking wreck, get this black magic out of here.” Mox picks up the burning hex bag and a gust of white smoke wafts out of it, illuminating more of the sticky lines everywhere in the house.

The other man walks in and looks around, making Adam wary as he holds his phone up. _Phone…_ “Fuck, dude--I had no idea it was _this_ bad, why didn’t you tell us, Reba?”

“Well, gosh, it was hard enough to find them as it was! We’re witches, but we’re still _human_ , Eddie,” the woman in question says over speakerphone.

Adam watches, helpless as the strange large man pulls…rocks? candles? from his backpack and takes out what can only be a canister of salt, placing them in a circle. “Yeah, yeah, human. Fine. Mox--lighter.”

“Left my lighter back at the circle I burned, you get matches.” Mox tosses them to Eddie and then puts his hands back up, Adam looks at the sudden movement, like a predator carefully surveying what he thinks might be prey. Then Mox starts talking again. 

“Kenny. How long have you been like this?”

“Long? Time… I…” He looks at Adam. “Time?”

The larger man bends over candles and crystals, saying words as he touches a string of beads. Adam’s head clears.

The larger man has seen death. The smaller man too.

Time…

“Lines in the bathtub… week ago. Couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t help…” Adam looks back at Kenny and the sort of horror that he couldn’t feel a moment ago builds in his chest. 

“One step at a time. Keep talking to me. Kenny, how ya feeling?”

“Scared… bad… guilty. I did a bad thing… I was s-selfisssh, kept… Adam…”

“We’ll take care of it. Just stay with me, it’s gonna hurt, but it will be better.” Mox reaches out a hand and Adam realizes he’s not scared. Not of the black lines or Kenny… not of Death. Which seems impossible. How is he not scared of Death. Everyone is scared of Death. 

“Adam… sssso… s-sorry…” The smoky form of Kenny condenses slowly, painfully, into the form of a man who looks so small.

Adam feels all his senses at once as his skin repairs itself and the echoey voice in his mind sinks back in, no longer making his head _throb._ He didn’t even realize how much it hurt. He falls to his knees as exhaustion pushes through him. Normal, human exhaustion.

Adam feels a hand on his shoulder, strong and grounding.

“I got you, brotha. Right here. And I ain’t letting go.” The voice is reassuring, insistent.

“T-thanks.” Adam manages. He can’t pull himself up, but the other man does it for him, he can finally see Kenny again. Actually see him. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” He hears Mox say, still waiting with his hand outstretched, waiting for Kenny to take it.

“I’m--I’m so s-sorry, Mox… Adam… I really fucked this one up…” Kenny stumbles toward Mox on his knees, grabbing the hand and falling into the other man.

“It’s okay. We all do shit we’re not proud of, you just had to learn the hard way. We’ll make it right.” Mox pulls Kenny close and Adam realizes the other man knows he’s not good at this, but he’s trying. He’s doing it because it’s the right thing to do.

“You… you had a spell targeted at you. That’s all we know now.” The larger man--Eddie, built like a brick shithouse--looks over at Kenny. “But trust me… we’re gonna get to the bottom of this. You wanna make this right?” Kenny nods meekly. “Then believe me when I say, we’re gonna fuckin’ do it.”

\--

**THREE YEARS AGO**

“So how long do you think we got until Kenny steps in to wipe the floor with that guy?” Matt leans against the bar, sipping soda from a colorful straw. The neon glow from the Bullet Club’s namesake Bullet Bill sign coats everything in a soft blue glow, including the big Mario and Luigi painted on the wall next to it. The arcade games and pinball machines clink and sing over the low rumble of the patrons, but as Matt looks around the barcade, he sees something upsetting and unusual: a large man who’s had arguably _way_ too much to drink, pumping coin after coin into the old Mortal Kombat II cabinet. He’s keeping others from playing, grumbling to himself as he can’t seem to catch a break against the AI. Adam Cole is eating cherries from behind the bar, stuffing them in the Coke he just poured for himself.

“Depends on whether the ole boss man decides he wants to show up, doesn’t it?” Adam smirks at him as he pulls the stem out of his mouth, tied in a perfect knot.

“Well _I’m_ not throwing him out,” Matt starts, feeling Adam’s eyes on him when he stares too long at the stem before he turns back to his drink. “I don’t even work here.”

Adam sighs and looks around. “Dammit… why are Tama and his brother never around for shit like this. I get paid to serve drinks, not… whatever the fuck this is.”

“You could leave it alone and see what happens, but it’s gonna be midnight soon and uh… someone is gonna have to ask him to leave.” Matt makes a face and almost jumps when he hears the man swear, loud and sharp. Something is familiar about him, but he can’t place it. Everyone else in the bar has started to notice, peeling away from their conversations to glance back. It’s making him anxious.

“Ugh, I don’t--” Adam turns his head only slightly towards the man, before the door to the bar opens. A broad man with light pink toned skin, a well-trimmed beard, and a Motörhead shirt with cut-off sleeves enters, and inclines his head slightly towards Adam at the bar. Matt immediately notices his friend’s demeanor change--like a Sim who immediately slides from normal into Flirty mode. It’s a bit irritating, to say the least.

“Earth to Adam. You got something you wanna tell me?” Matt narrows his eyes and then he looks between the man that entered the bar and Adam. 

“Oh, uh. Matt…” He hops the bar, as Kevin smirks and catches him in his arms. “Meet Kevin.” Adam places a kiss to his cheek as Kevin holds him up.

“Oookay.” Matt can’t help but stare. “I guess, uh nice to meet you?” He’s a little taken aback, but he pushes his bratty nature down a little to at least try and be cordial. Someone should give him a medal for it.

“I told Kev to swing by so he could meet everybody.” Adam finally slides down Kevin’s body and retreats back to the bar.

“Nice to meet you,” Kevin says brusquely in a deep voice, extending a hand.

Matt takes a second, but then he takes his hand, wincing when he hears the man at the Mortal Kombat cabinet swear again, punching the side of it. Uh oh… “Nice to meet you too. Sorry, it’s not usually like this.”

“That guy causing a problem?” Kevin’s voice has a faint hoarse edge to it, an accent that Matt can’t quite place.

“Yeah. Actually, the guys that usually take care of it are MIA and Adam here was gonna have to do the honors.” Not that Matt was actually counting on that.

Kevin looks at Adam, then looks back to the man and sniffs, tilting his head slightly as if sizing him up. “You stay here and do your job, babe. I’ll take care of this one.” He cracks his knuckles before heading over.

“Woah, woah, Kev, you sure that’s such a good idea?” Adam reaches an arm in front of him, but Kevin just pushes past him.

“Please don’t fuck up the machine or —anyone else!” Matt calls after him and he looks at Adam for a split second before he hears the man shout and watches as Kevin glares a hole through him, grabbing him by the back of the jacket and pushing him towards the front door. Thank fuck.

“That’s my man,” Adam says dreamily as he loads ice into the slushy machine. “Aren’t I lucky?”

“So when did this happen?” Matt keeps one eye on Kevin while he jostles the ice in his glass. “I don’t remember you talking about dating anyone.” 

“Oh, we, uh.” Adam wipes an errant strand of hair off his sweaty face with the back of his hand. “Met when I went clubbing last week.” Adam gives a nervous smile like that isn’t quite the whole story. 

—

_Palms sweaty even under the wraps, Adam squares up in the cage, letting the reverberating sound of the people screaming and beating on the wire fuel him. The man in front of him, Kevin, is tall and built like a Mack truck... but Adam isn’t worried. The bigger they are, the harder they fall—_

—

“Adam! Adam! Fuck dude, I swear to god we have to work on your active listening skills.” Matt is snapping his fingers on the other side of the bar. “Is there more to the story or is _‘oh uh clubbing’_ the gist of it?”

Adam gives Matt a blindingly-white smile. “Oh, I think you can get the gist of it.”

“Good in bed got—“ Matt stops himself when he notices Kevin return to the bar and then sees his brother finally walk back through the front door, Kenny in tow. Oh, this should be fun.

“Everything okay? I saw a big dude out—“

“What the FUCK is your malfunction?!” The man who was escorted out moments ago roars, crashing into Kenny. 

“G-gunner! What… what a surprise!” Kenny turns around and pats the man on his rather large chest.

“I paid good _fucking_ money, Omega—”

“I’m sure you did, Gunner. Listen here, the kid behind the bar, he’s new…”

Matt’s eyebrows raise all the way to his hairline. He didn’t even recognize Karl, it’s been a long time since he’s seen him around and…

“Kenny, he was causing a scene.” He vouches for Adam, who’s got a souring look on his face.

“Fine, okay, Gunner, let’s--let’s take this outside and talk. It’s way too hot in here anyway, man. C’mon. C’mon.” Kenny flashes Matt a quick smile before ushering the larger man out the door.

Bullet dodged. 

“What the hell happened while we were gone?” Nick asks as he sidles up to the bar and swipes Matt’s drink to take it for his own. 

“You guys need some better security if people like _that_ are your regulars.” Kevin comments.

“Never seen him before in my life,” Adam says, as if he’s not only been working there a week.

“Hasn’t been around in awhile just—give me a second.” Matt nods at Kevin and grabs his hoodie before he heads outside to make sure Kenny is okay. 

He comes out just as Kenny is waving off Karl into a cab before rubbing his hand over his face. The strap of Kenny’s muscle tank is falling off his shoulder, exposing the whole right side of his chest.

“Everything… uh, okay?” Matt isn’t looking. He absolutely _isn’t looking._ He can’t look. If Matt knows Kenny, he knows he’s not even thinking about how he looks right now.

“Yeah! We’re good. _Peachy_ , actually. Thanks for uh, holding down the fort. Didn’t expect him to show his face, well, ever.” Kenny smiles at Matt, in the way that Matt knows means Kenny is being entirely too trusting and good-natured to be an objective judge of character.

“I tried, but things usually run themselves when weird stuff isn’t happening.” Like, well… like an old friend just showing up out of nowhere and causing a scene. “I didn’t even fucking recognize him. I mean, even if I had, and I’m not just saying this, Adam made the right call kicking him out.” Not that Matt gets to make those decisions, but he’d thought he’d say something.

“Hey, it’s fine, I trust you. I just… next time text me, at least? Just so I know. Anyway, I would’ve been back earlier, but I wanted to make sure we grabbed a case of that beer Kota likes, and some Ramune...”

“I think all the fires are out for now, but I’ll make sure Adam knows not to throw his weight around. He’s got a new boyfriend so…”

“A new boyfriend?” Kenny raises his eyebrows. “Huh. Didn’t know he was… anyway, good for him. I’m just. Surprised.”

“I know you guys don’t really get along, but maybe he will mellow out a little. I know he appreciates you giving him a job so it’s just about working out the rough patches.” Matt smiles at him.

“Yeah, yeah. ‘Bullet Club for extra lives’, right?” Kenny quotes the catchphrase he came up with for the place semi-sarcastically. 

Matt rolls his eyes, but he’s still laughing and he can’t help but smile while Kenny is doing the same. “And look on the bright side, all the riff-raff is cleared out and you and Kota can just have a good time.”

“Aaaand we can make sure everyone _else_ has a good time too…”

—

**  
NOW**  
  


“You know,” Adam Cole looks at his claws uninterestedly, he’s got a million other things he could be doing—namely keeping his momentum going with Matt and Nick who are lounging by the pool, but no. “She doesn’t have to see you. You showed up without an appointment.”

“But I think she’ll _want_ to.” The blond man in the pristine suit gives a snake-like smile.

“Mmm. What does Cody Rhodes, the King of the South Beach vampires want that he can’t get himself?” Adam doesn’t know details, but he finds that knowing and caring are two different things. Britt has started sharing more with him, giving him more responsibilities. He’s not sure he understands the scope fully, but he’s starting to.

“What does _any_ good vampire want? Emphasis on, uh, good.” Cody sighs and sits down. “Someone’s made South Beach a very, _very_ difficult place to live. And if I don’t want to stir the hunters up with more dead bodies… then I have to go to… non-traditional sources. Such as yourself. And…”

“She’s a Queen.” Adam looks up at him sharply. “We’ve got something good going on here and if you want to benefit from it, you’re going to have to learn a little respect.”

Cody inches closer to Adam. “Well, I am the _husband_ of an ancient vampire goddess currently in a state of torpor, and as such, I represent her interests as well. _Trust_ me when I say you should respect the fact that leaving her hungry… would be bad for all of us.”

“Oh, well, _I’m sorry_. Maybe you should have—” Adam stops himself when the large double doors to the presidential suite sweep open.

“Oh, hello _boys_. Cody Rhodes-Akasha… vampire king. What brings him to the humble Raleigh today?” She walks over to Adam, stroking his horns idly with a hand. Adam tries not to melt at the touch. 

“He says he has a business proposition. Didn’t fill me in with any other information other than something about a vampire goddess.”

“Listen here, you better _respect_ \--” Cody starts, but Britt holds up a finger.

“You’re here, on my turf. You play by my rules, Cody. Unless…” She looks at Adam, smirks, and then starts stroking his horn again as Cody suddenly whines, then growls. “You want to end up sucking Adam’s cock.”

Adam swallows hard at her words, trying to tamp down the swirling lust in his belly at the thought of Britt standing and watching as…

No, this is time for business. 

“You walked in here, you have to know that was a stupid, stupid move if you wanted to try and pressure us into something.”

“I--” Cody grunts, and Adam can’t help but smile a little bit watching him struggle against Britt’s power. “I was trying… to make a deal with Death. But someone _else_ got a hold of him. But I have a connection… and I know vampires haven’t been sucking all those bodies dry. So. What say, hnngh. We work together.” 

Britt sighs wearily, and Cody collapses onto his knees, breathing deeply. “Really? Trying to _blackmail_ the Demon Queen of Miami? You vampires and your politics are _so_ tiring. Well. Luckily for _you_ … there’s bigger fish to fry. And I need someone whose form can be a little more… incorporeal at times than mine. So. I’ll help you with your little, uh, _blood problem_.” She pats Adam’s head before stepping forward.

_What do you think, babe? Should he answer to me… or to you?_ Britt thinks at him, before turning to speak to Cody.

_Let me do this. I want to prove to you I can._

Adam thinks and it’s with a confidence he can almost _feel._ He’s never had so many things he’s wanted just fall into his lap like this. _I’ll get you what you need, just tell me what that is._

_I set this up a while ago; getting into the hospital was easy… diverting the blood supply was difficult, but worthwhile. And we need someone who can get into places demons and humans cannot. Vampires have other methods of traveling… as long as it’s not a place where a human resides. Plus, they’re strong, provided they’ve fed. Having a pet vampire or two is part of the long-term plan, my prince. His pact is yours if you want him…_

“But in return for blood… you serve us now. Specifically, Adam! So, he can get you what you need, you little blood pervert. Take care, boys…” Britt blows Adam a kiss before leaving, and Cody turns around only to have the door slammed in his face.

“I wanna be clear about this,” Adam takes a step forward, pushing his influence out to ensnare Cody. “You can have all the damn blood you want, but I don’t give a damn about you. You want Death… sounds like that ties up some loose ends. What can you get me in exchange?”

Cody moans, looking up at Adam with clear blue eyes, even though Adam can feel him fighting against it. “I… what do you need? I just… fuck. He left me. And now he’s spending time with Nick and Matt… and their friend Kenny. So maybe… if you take care of the brothers… and their friend… I can give you Death, too.”

“Oh, I’ve got Matt and Nick, it won’t take much more pushing until they are tied to me. Kenny though…” Kenny Omega. The man who, if he really thinks about it, set him on this path to begin with. Maybe he owes Kenny a thank you... or _maybe_ , he owes him a lesson or two about power and what you can _actually_ do with it. A thrill races up his spine just thinking about what having Kenny Omega under his thumb would feel like. He can’t wait to find out. “Sounds like a plan.”

“So. I guess that’s a pact, then. Where do I sign…?” Cody looks around.

“You _are_ new at this, aren’t you? You don’t sign, Cody.” Adam takes a step forward, grabs Cody’s tie and pulls him in for a kiss. Cody moans at the contact--the man is so full of a need to suffer, to be _punished,_ that he hides under a thin veneer of arrogant machismo. Adam can feel it from the moment they make contact. Easy to tie that into the pact Adam weaves before they mix blood.

He pulls back, just an inch or two before he smirks, showing his own sharp canines. “On your knees. I know that’s where you like to be.” Adam watches Cody wobble for a moment before he finally does as he’s asked and Adam cuts sharply with claws across the palm of his hand, watching blood well up in a pool before he turns it downward and lets it drip onto Cody’s face.

Cody’s face darkens, filled with anger as he wipes it off with a thumb and tries to stand, as if submitting wasn’t exactly what he wanted. But then again… people like Cody never like it to be easy. “I didn’t… sign up for this, you jackass.”

“It doesn’t matter what you signed up for.” Adam’s smile is wicked. “You’re getting exactly what you want. You can’t hide from me. All your little secrets, all the things you don’t want anyone to know… I’ve got them now.” He reaches forward with his blood-coated hand and cuts Cody’s cheek quickly with a claw, grabbing Cody’s tie again with his free hand to keep him in place as he smears their blood together and presses it to his lips. “Lick.”

“You’re a piece of shit, Adam,” Cody growls, but his fangs lengthen compulsively and he does as he’s told, his whole body shuddering at the taste.

\--

“You get three meals a day here, starting with this one. And I don’t take no for an answer.” There is a plate of over easy eggs, hash browns and bacon waiting for Kenny at his seat at Jon Moxley’s breakfast nook. “So eat.” 

“If you insist,” Kenny sighs. He’s bone-tired from head to toe, so he doesn’t really feel like fighting Jon, instead opting to shovel the food slowly into his mouth. “...thanks for the warm Waffle House welcome.” He looks from the hunter with a demon hand to the man beside him, who slings a dish towel over his shoulder.

“You dodged a bullet, I’m actually surprised you’re up before your friend.” Jon continues, making another plate, presumably for Adam before sliding it next to Kenny. “Does the smell of food wake him usually?”

“Friend, yeah. Uh. Usually he’s the one who wakes up first and, you know, makes breakfast.” Kenny pauses to gulp down some orange juice. “Former farm boy, you know.”

“I know you’re fucking, Omega. I thought I’d have some tact in regards to the situation, considering.” Jon looks over at the man standing next to him, Kenny had never seen him before those last few hours in his condo. “Eddie will get the farm boy up.”

Normally Kenny would try to shrug it off with a cool guy joke, but he’s tired, hungry, and pretty sure Jon found him as a pile of sentient goo, so he cuts his egg up into his hashbrowns and digs in sheepishly.

When Eddie leaves the kitchen, Jon leans over the countertop. “Kenny. I know it’s hard,” he gestures to his own arm. “But this ain’t gonna get any better unless you talk about it. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“Jon. With all due respect.” Kenny looks at him through the fringe of his curly bangs. “It’s early morning, you made me a _very_ nice breakfast, and I’d like to eat it before it gets cold.” Where does he even start?

“Just putting it on the table.” Jon sighs. “Apparently a lot happened in a week.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it sure does. I’m not… Wait, it was only a _week_? Felt more like a month…” Kenny takes a bite of egg. 

“You texted me a week and a couple days ago. Should have figured something was up when you didn’t ask to make the rounds with me. Sorry about that.”

“It’s… it’s okay. I’m a big boy... god. I should be able to take care of myself.” Kenny leans over his food, picking at it as he leans his head on his other hand, fiddling with his curls. They’re rapidly frizzing out, because he just didn’t have the energy to take care of them.

“Omega, you gotta learn that whether you like it or not, this whole thing we got going on here, it’s an ecosystem. You’re part of that. That also means you’re in a community. It’s about time you learn you can lean on people. Took me a long time to get it too.” Jon pushes back, cracking his neck. “Sure you can take care of yourself, but it’s kinda hard when… someone is attacking you.”

“You really think someone was, was gunning for me? That it wasn’t just some… weird and wild Miami magic?” Kenny sets his fork down for a second.

“I know they were. We traced the magic. Hex bag had dissolved before we got there, but it was an anchor more than anything. Opened the door to the spell. Whether you want to believe it or not, you’re powerful. You keep things in balance. Someone wanted to throw that off.”

Kenny sighs, making a raspberry with his tongue before realizing it’s hanging down below his chin. He reaches up to touch it self-consciously.

“Well.” Jon sighs. “Looks like you’re gonna have to take care of that. And by the looks of it, you aren’t alone.” He nods to something behind Kenny before he hears some shuffling. 

“You can see my ribs…” Adam’s voice almost echoes in his ears.

“Adam, oh thank--you’re awake.” Kenny jumps up, almost knocking his stool over in his frantic scrambling, running over to run a hand over Adam’s torso. “You… I did this.” 

Even though Jon said it wasn’t his fault earlier… he still feels like it is. Kenny realizes two things then: one, that he may very well be a god (or at the very least he isn’t entirely human), but two, he still has a very human conscience, and it _hurts_.

“Kenny… we’re past that.” Adam puts his hand over Kenny’s, his skin stretched taut and thin over an increasingly skeletal-looking hand. “You can’t change it and you can’t go back, so we gotta move forward.”

Kenny rubs the edge of Adam’s rib through the… wound? Hole? Before pulling his hand back to wrap around Adam’s bony one. He turns to Jon, pressing his lips together with a firm resolve as he sees his vision flash red. He hadn’t wanted to believe any of it, but the fact that someone could be targeting Adam, targeting him… it causes that flame to burn up inside of him. “I… I never asked for any of this. I don’t know what…being Vengeance is, I don’t know what I am any more… but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let them get away with what they did to us.”

“Just throwing this out there, but,” Jon looks between the both of them. “Have either of you tried to actually _talk_ to the other parts of yourself that keep manifesting? Maybe I’m not the best person to give advice, but I am where I am because I gave people like you and and I guess people like me, the benefit of the doubt here. Gods, entities, monsters… they all want something. You’d be better off if you figured out what that is exactly.”

Kenny looks up at Adam, still half-kneeling in front of him. _Adam… have you made peace with Death?_

“I think I owe him a conversation or two.” Adam looks unsure, but he tries to steel his resolve, something lurking in those blue eyes that Kenny can’t quite make out.

Kenny stands up finally and steps back, looking between Adam and Jon before slinking back to his seat. “And I think… I need some help unlocking my powers.”

“Boys were doing a pretty bang up job of helping others while you were ignoring everything going on in your heads.” Jon shakes his head. “We’ll work it out. In the meantime,” Jon looks right at Adam. “Sit. Eat.”

“Yeah. We can get in touch with your inner god after your plates are clean. Jesus.” Eddie walks back into the room. “Can I talk to you for a sec, Mox?”

Jon gives them both one more look before walking out of the kitchen and following Eddie out the front door.

“The hash browns are really good. You might need to microwave yours though--” Kenny starts to say, before looking over and seeing that Adam’s food is still steaming. “Or not.” 

Adam shuffles onto the stool, pulling down his white shirt that’s not doing very much to hide the eerie purple glow from underneath. “So that’s the guy you mentioned who helped you out before?”

“Yeah. Jon Moxley. Used to be a hunter. Now, I don’t know what he is.” Kenny smiles at Adam, trying to reassure him. “But whatever that is, he’s on our side. He’s a good guy… might be the only good guy left.”

“That’s good to know, I guess. That there is someone out there looking out for someone who’s not just themselves.” Adam gingerly touches his food with his fork, poking the egg yolk and watching it run into the hash browns. “Do you think I even need to eat anymore?”

“I…” Kenny starts to answer, and then he’s realized he hadn’t even considered it. Clearly they didn’t suffer much not eating--he gets chills up and down his spine, and he starts to sweat, frozen in place. His vision goes red, and suddenly the only thing he can feel is the remembered feeling of his very body disassociating as that black magic forced him to give into his new self’s base desires.

Adam’s hand, his warm, real hand presses onto his back. “I’m sorry. I was… trying to make a joke, I guess.” 

It anchors Kenny, pulling him back, and he inhales with a deep shudder. “It’s… it’s okay. I’m okay. We’re okay.”

“If you wanna talk about it, I’m not sure it will help, but I can at least listen. I reserve the right to say it’s too much though… considering…”

“Yeah, god, um. Can you just… hold me? Just for a little bit.” Kenny starts shaking with human adrenaline.

“Yeah. Of course.” Adam slings his arm around Kenny and pulls him close. He might not be mortal any more… but at least this still feels as good as it always has.


	14. Black Mass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New players are revealed. Who has the upper hand, and who will be washed away by the Miami tides?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA: can I get uhhhhh some fuckin plot?
> 
> Check out the INCREDIBLE commission we got of Vices' Adam Cole: [link](https://twitter.com/geneticghost/status/1353801884503597056)

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 14: Black Mass**

**—**

**SEVERAL YEARS AGO**

“Thanks for coming to visit me, you guys. You know… Japan is great and all, but it gets really lonely being here all by myself. I mean, I’m not. Totally by myself. I have Kota. But…” Kenny looks down at the Tokyo alleyway as he shuffles his feet, he and the Jackson brothers forced to keep a leisurely pace behind a crowd of German tourists. His sneakers have seen better days, but his financial assistance isn’t due for another month. He can only hope that they hold up that long. 

“But what I think he’s trying to say, Matt, is that he  _ missed  _ us.” Nick smirks, his tone light and even a little mischievous as he puts his hand on Kenny’s shoulders and squeezes hard. 

“What? Did you think that we were gonna miss your birthday?” Matt bundles up a little more in his hoodie, but Kenny can’t miss his smile.

“Oh my god—I was wondering why you were being so sneaky about the date, I mean I figured you just knew I had a week break at the end of September… you sneaky bastard!” Kenny darts over and squeezes Matt into a half-hug as they walk. “Just seeing you guys… it’s the best early birthday present I could ask for.”

“Oh don’t worry about it dude. We’ve been missing you too and figured we’d kill two birds with one stone or whatever.” 

“So I hope you’re ready to actually get out and do some stuff. Universal Studios Japan, Tokyo Disney Sea. The world is your oyster or whatever the hell people say.” Nick throws an arm around Kenny and they walk arm in arm for a few steps before Matt dissolves into laughter. 

“God we must look like idiots out here.”

“Hey, we aren’t the ones wearing matching t-shirts…” Kenny eyes the tourists, all wearing neon blue shirts emblazoned with some kind of family name in orange font. 

“Well, I mean, I don’t plan on getting lost or needing to meet up for a family reunion, but I’ve always wanted matching shirts. We could give it a try.” Nick laughs, digging his hands in his pockets. 

“If we got shirts, what would they say?” Kenny looks over at Matt. “‘Kenny’s a big dorkass loser’? ‘Nick Jackson’s Street Magic’?”

“The Elite.” Matt says almost dead seriously and waits a beat before continuing. “Like really. Think about it. Me, you and Nick. We’re Elite at everything and maybe that’s a little ego talking, but I’m fine with it. You’re gonna make it big over here and we can just ride your coattails.” Matt finally gives Kenny a smug grin, smacking his gum as he chews it. 

“I mean. Video games are a big world, guys,” Kenny says with a nervous laugh. “And I’m just a college student. Just because people really liked my Mugen mods back in the day doesn’t really mean anything—I’m a nobody here!”

“I’ve got no idea what that means, but your stuff has always been awesome. And you’re doing good here, right? Like you like it here?” Matt asks.

“I mean, I’m here on this really amazing scholarship, yeah. I’m really lucky. And… it’s everything I’ve ever dreamed about. My roommate is this amazing fighting game pro and I’ve totally fallen in love with him and now we’re… dating?” Kenny feels his face heat up, but he doesn’t care. He’s talking about  _ Kota _ . “He wants to become a sports pathologist. Did I tell you guys that? Like a doctor for athletes and esports players.”

“What haven’t you told us!” Nick asks him, but it’s both kind and cutting in the way only Nick can make it. “We’re excited to meet him, as long as he’s treating you right.” 

“Yeah, Nick doesn’t wanna have to beat anyone up around here. We might get a reputation.” 

“Hey. None of that create-a-wrestler super kick stuff if he decides he wants to play Virtual Pro Wrestling with you guys, okay? I still don’t know how you guys manage to make that shit work in a game that doesn’t even really have kicks…”

“That’s the magic of it.” Nick rattles off, stopping to stare up at the massive Tokyo Dome. 

“Hey. I didn’t know your place was so damn close to  _ this. _ ” Matt stops short and his suitcase with him.

“Yeah I mean. It’s just the Tokyo Dome. They have concerts there and stuff.” Kenny shrugs. He walks past it every day, so it’s become kind of no big deal for him. 

“Just different seeing it in person is all. Oh!” Matt shakes his head as if he forgot something, sliding off his backpack in one smooth motion while they have a moment. “I didn’t know if it was a good idea, but then I figured you deserve something nice for your birthday.” He unzips his bag and pulls out a brand new Nike shoe box. “This was before I saw your shoes falling apart so call it a lucky guess.”

“Um, wow, Matt, I… should we really do this here?” Kenny looks around him. “We could wait until we get to the restaurant—” He doesn’t want to be one of  _ those people _ , and they’re almost but not quite blocking the entrance to a subway stop.

“I just wanted to give them to you since… dude it looks like your toes are gonna come out of those sneakers any second.” 

Nick guides them a little closer to an alleyway.

Matt’s right—and Kenny feels immediately sheepish, since he’d tried to hide them by wearing his longest pants. He didn’t want to look… grungy… for his friends. “Well, you know, it’s just… my scholarship hasn’t quite hit yet, so I was just waiting to get shoes until then, but— _ thank you _ . Really—” Kenny opens them up, and smiles wide. Brand new black and gold Nike Jordans. Not  _ overly  _ expensive ones, just… solid, comfortable shoes.

“Dad’s construction business has been going really well so… we figured it would be our treat. Matt picked out the colors so if you hate them, it’s his fault.” Nick says slyly and Matt punches him right in the arm. “Hey!”

“No… no, I love them. Thank you, guys. Thank you. So much.” Kenny’s face hurts from smiling, he can’t help it. He backs up against the wall of the building immediately, trying to conceal his holey socks from the brothers as he puts on his new shoes; he can’t wait to see what they look like.

“Anything for you.” Matt tells him. “Anytime.” 

—

**NOW**

The walk out to the Raleigh’s stretch of sandy beach is slow, wind gently buffeting the witch as she inches forward in heeled boots. Not the best attire choice, maybe, but when you meet with the Demon Queen of Miami for the first time in months, you want to look your best, or at least competent.

“Reba, darling.” Britt immediately smiles up at her from her place on under a black and white checkered sun umbrella and matching sunchair. The succubus is a vision in neon pink, a white peasant crop-top, and a breezy linen skirt that somehow manages to go all the way to her ankles but barely covers the unnaturally-full curve of her hips. Reba swallows. “Come sit on daddy’s lap.” She pats the widest part of her skirt illustratively.

Even with a charm in place, Reba takes a second to collect herself and not fall headlong into what any human might if they were in the same position. It would be easy to just fall at her feet, but you don’t get where Reba has by having a weak will. She’s just… very good at following instructions. And  _ only _ following instructions. “O-of course.” She takes a few steps forward and sits as she was asked, trying not to feel the slow simmer of lust that’s bubbling away despite all her precautions. “Everything you asked about has been taken care of.”

“So you got the hunter-demon to rescue the gods?” Britt reaches up, idly stroking her claws through Reba’s hair, loose under her black wide-brimmed hat. “Any hint at who was behind it?”

“Another witch. Someone powerful who didn’t want to be found. It took some spilt blood but I think I have a lead.” The trail had tried to dry up as fast as they could uncover it, didn’t help that they were being pushed in too many directions at once. “It’s old magic.”

“Good girl,” Britt purrs. “I knew you could do it.” Before she can object, the demon takes her hat off, and starts carding those claws through her hair and massaging her scalp like she’s a cat. If Britt  _ wasn’t  _ a powerful demon, Reba would object, cast a hex, or something—she normally doesn’t let anyone near her, let alone order her around, but… Reba has to admit, even just on a physical level, it feels good to be able to let her barriers down. “Anything else?” She draws her claws against the nape of Reba’s neck.

It’s hard to think, but she pushes through. “I managed two words when we scryed. ‘ _ Black Mass _ .’ I’m guessing it’s the name of the ritual. Still aren’t sure what they were hoping to accomplish.” But it’s not her job to think, unless Britt wants her to. She does what she’s asked and gathers information. She’s damn good at it too.

“Question… Reba.” Britt rests her hands on Reba’s shoulders, before slowly massaging along the lines of power Reba’s tattooed on her body. “What,  _ exactly _ , do you get out of this again? I mean, I know what  _ I  _ get, of course. You’ve been with me even longer than Adam, and… you have yet to really ask for anything. I’m  _ definitely _ never gonna say no to being spoiled, but… it does make me wonder. You aren’t using me, are you? There’s nobody... else you’re serving?” Britt smiles at her wide, her pointed canines shining bright even in the shade.

“N-no! Of course not. I just… ever since I opened the hellmouth… I thought that my coven and I would be able to work in the shadows for you.” It’s just Britt, but it’s not like she’s not manipulating every single one of them. “I am just trying to keep myself hidden in plain sight. I’m more useful to you like that. Unless you want me to ask you for something?” That’s a dangerous proposition and she knows it.

“Well, it’s  _ only _ fair. After all, you’ve done all this work for me… surely you must want—ooh. So tense, dear. You’ve got so many knots in your back—”

Reba lets out a moan when Britt squeezes just right, quickly trying to swallow it down as quickly as it came. “Would it be wrong of me to say that I just like serving you?” She feels Britt’s claws on her skin and she shivers.

“No, not at all… Everyone likes what they like. Do you like how powerful it makes you feel, knowing that you’re serving a demon queen’s will? And not only that, but one specially chosen by a ruler of Hell? All I need… is someone to help me unravel this conspiracy, the one thing stopping me from truly ruling Miami, and you’ve done  _ so _ good. 

“But you know…” Britt continues, “if you serve a demon, it is a bit rude to not accept if they offer to grant you something, pet. After all, I can tell there’s something you want. And it will make me feel better if you have your hunger sated.”

“I—“ Reba isn’t sure if there is panic in her chest or if it’s something else, dancing on the razor's edge of feeling thrilled and terrified that Britt could simply end her life right now if she chose to do so. It’s something she’s become addicted to. “I want… you to make me into something else. I—“ She never used to be a thrill seeker. Not until she opened the hellmouth. “I want you to pick.” The most dangerous type of card game. One where you don’t know what hand you’ll be dealt.

“I think… you already are, aren’t you?” Britt curls a lock of Reba’s hair in her claws. “Only… one more step. Something that you can do for yourself…  _ not  _ for me.”

Reba looks confused for a moment. “What is it?” 

Britt leans close, whispering in her ear, as she takes Reba’s jaw so tenderly in her claws. 

—

“You’ll never believe who just texted me.” Kevin’s sitting on the sectional in his and Sami’s new place—which, much as it pains Kevin to admit, is rather comfortable—looking at his phone. The whole ‘urban jungle’ theme of the furnished apartment was more Sami than him, but he’s… adapted to it. Still feels weird to put his feet on the tiger-shaped rug under the coffee table though, even if it  _ is  _ fake.

“Who, babe?” Sami looks up from re-stringing his guitar, setting the half-finished project on the dining room table.

“Adam  _ fucking _ Cole.” Kevin sighs and tosses his phone onto the couch, it landing face down as he puts his hands over his face, slouching further into the couch.

“Hey, hey, hey. None of that.” Sami hops over, blanketing Kevin as best as he can with a hug despite their difference in size. “‘What do we say to Adam Cole? Not today.’ Remember?” Sami nuzzles in under Kevin’s chin, kissing his beard gently.

Despite his mood, Sami’s natural swell of positive emotions just leaks into him. “One of these days, you’re going to be in a bad mood.” Kevin let’s just frown twitch up, just slightly. “One of these days.”

“The bad moods are when you can’t get me out of bed, and when I start doomscrolling on Twitter. Come on, you know me better than  _ that _ .” Sami sighs. “Just ignore it. I mean, what can replying do for you anyway other than piss you off even further?”

“I don’t know,” Kevin shrugs even with Sami still on top of him. “Guess I just wanna know exactly why he decided to text me. Like… come on, after all this time?”

“I mean, you are a prettttyyy great guy,” Sami answers with a sing-song voice. “Completely unbiased opinion, obviously.”

“Only since I met you.” Kevin admits, and he doesn’t say it often, even though he should. “Adam and I were bad for each other because I was bad for almost everyone.” Not that Adam didn’t help that, but…

“I refuse to believe that.” Sami readjusts, laying his head on Kevin’s chest. “Adam’s just… just a cruel manipulator, Kev. He bought out the worst in you because that was the easiest way of  _ controlling _ you. And, I mean, I can’t tell you what to do. But in my opinion? Just delete it. Block his number.”

“I’m not gonna text him back. Don’t worry,” Kevin puts his arms around Sami and closes his eyes. “You’re too good for me, you know that?”

“Says the big, handsome man who I thought wouldn’t look twice at a shoegaze ska loser like me.”

“Hey. You throw an elbow at a racist fuck without hesitation, you’re getting my attention.” Kevin says fondly as he slides Sami up so he can kiss him properly. 

“Mmmm.” Sami kisses back, melting into Kevin with a happy sigh.

“Thanks.” Kevin says when he pulls back. “So much.” 

“Anything for putting up with me, Kev.”

—

It’s a bad idea. It’s such a bad idea… but Kevin knows that ignoring Adam’s texts and the one single solitary call he’s made will just let him continue to make them unless Kevin steps in and does something about it. So he plans on doing something about it. 

He just can’t bring himself to tell Sami.

He feels horribly guilty—and he knows Sami isn’t a saint—but it feels like admitting that he betrayed a promise to the first man to truly love him, would bring everything shattering down.

So he lies, and bides his time while he puts out feelers through his dock contacts for a guy named Adam Cole.

Turns out, that worker solidarity thing Sami’s always banging on about has some worth to it, and the solidarity and dependability Kevin has shown turns out in spades. Seems like Adam Cole’s been running with a really weird crowd, and it intrigues Kevin enough to try it out.

And that’s how he ends up in the South Beach, in front of an intimidating set of gates overtaken by dense Miami flora, buzzing himself in.

“The Regal Estate,” a gruff voice buzzes through the speaker box. “State your business.”

Kevin reminds himself that he still knows more about Adam than he should, so any questions asked he should be able to answer. He just has to remember not to be rude. “I was invited by Adam Cole. This is my first time.” 

A pause, a rustling of papers, and then the speaker crackles back to life. “Don’t see you on the list, but Adam hasn’t been here this week. Just go directly to the basement and check in with him before proceeding.” The speaker clicks off, and the large iron gates creak before they slide open.

If something could scream ‘bad idea’ more than it already does, this would be it. The obscured mansion, the implication of the  _ basement _ . Unfortunately, it also feels like a mystery to unravel. “Uh. Yeah. Thanks.” Kevin looks back once before driving through the gates. He hears them groan closed again once he’s past before he finally rolls up his window.

It should probably give him a little more pause too that his car is now literally locked into these gates, but there’s no turning back now… only moving forward. He’s got his phone and his wits and that’s all he’s ever needed. He just wishes he didn’t feel so bad about  _ lying. _ Once this all gets settled, he’s going to have to give Sami a hard time for making him grow a conscience. 

The massive house that finally comes into view isn’t what he was expecting, but Adam’s always known how to sink his claws in and climb up the ladder so to speak. A butler opens the front door for him, full in a tuxedo with a high collar that barely covers the man’s tattoo-covered neck. “Welcome to the Regal mansion. If you are here for tonight’s… festivities, please see the stairs past the second door down the hall.”

He’s not. He decidedly is not, but with his curiosity piqued, Kevin knows he can’t say no. He nods to the man and starts his walk, somehow feeling woefully under-dressed in just a cut-off shirt and basketball shorts. Everything is so white and pristine that it makes his skin crawl a little bit.

As he descends the stairs and hears thumping music and cheering, he starts to reconsider whether he is actually underdressed at all—then the smell of sweat and  _ blood _ fills his nose and he  _ knows _ exactly what this place is.

A plain, white door in a stone wall at the bottom of the stairs is practically thumping out of its frame, and right as Kevin opens it, a roars sounds forth before the crowd of sweaty, muscled human forms rattles the metal fencing around what is definitely, absolutely, a fight pit.

He can’t be here. He can’t stay here. He knows exactly what a place like this would do to him. It’s where this all started after all—Adam Cole and bad decisions and so many other things. In a warehouse by the docks. Something that he could just use to get some bubbling frustration out of his system. Kevin still has his hand on the door handle, he clings to it like some sort of grounding force.

“Ah, you must be the new young man Corey sent down,” a smooth British voice interrupts his thoughts from behind him, and he turns around to find a man in a crisp black suit, with his collared white shirt popped open just a bit, clearly sizing him up. “William Regal. Welcome to the Nexus of Extremes, Mister, ah…?”

“Owens. Kevin. Kevin Owens.” He wants to ask what the fuck this all is, but it’s too familiar. The dressing is just different. “Do you know Adam Cole?”

“Ah, yes. Adam is one of our most… promising members.” Regal chuckles a bit, audible even despite the clamour. “You wouldn’t have been let in if I didn’t.”

“Is he here? I have business with him.” Kevin makes it short and not so sweet. If Adam isn’t here, he has no reason to stay.

“Yes, but he’s busy at the moment.” Regal puts his hand on Kevin’s shoulder, patting it. “I have a feeling you’ll be seeing him soon enough.” And with that, the man is swallowed by the crowd.

“What the fuck…” A strange feeling swells in Kevin’s chest and he’s pushed forward by the same crowd that swallowed the other man. The door he came through suddenly feels a million miles away, like the room is stretching, but it’s got to be a trick of his eyes. Or at least that’s what he tells himself even though he knows Miami has a penchant for weird happenings. He’s got one goal tonight, find Adam Cole and make sure he never contacts him again. Kevin’s always had persuasive fists. So he stands and waits. Something in the back of his mind telling him that if he wanders, he somehow might get in more trouble. 

He waits and watches and feels the unpleasant itch of rage he thought he’d purged bubble up from his gut into his chest and stay there. Kevin watches as a man gets his face grated against the wall of the cage, tapping out when he gets dragged back in, bloody and half conscious. He watches as the crowd gets hungrier for violence and rattles that steel when the next match ends abruptly because the fighting turns into something else; men smearing blood and kissing each other like they just couldn’t think of anything else. Kevin turns to leave after that, feeling steeped in the atmosphere long enough. 

Something about the way the crowd cheers makes him pause though, and then he hears a voice he’d recognize anywhere. “Well, well, thank you for that  _ display _ , the two of you. Let’s get a round of applause for them, eh? Yeah, clap for them, and for me… because it’s time for Adam Cole—”

“BAY BAY!” is the crowd’s enthusiastic response, as if they waited all night simply to say it. To worship whatever they think this piece of  _ shit  _ is bringing them.

Adam’s cult of personality has always been his driving force. How many people he could wrap around his finger. It just seems like he traded in a handful of men for a crowd. Kevin might be impressed, if it were anyone else. 

“Now… for the grand finale… I thought we’d try something a little  _ different tonight _ .” Kevin hears the crowd still, and Adam’s voice echoes off the stone walls of the basement as he smiles wide at the crowd. “I hear we have some  _ newcomers  _ tonight… and some of you still have yet to have your first real  _ fight _ . So, come on! I’ll go easy on you.” So fucking full of himself. “We can put on a show! And maybe, if you’re really lucky… we can hang out.  _ After _ the show. Any takers? Come onnnnn, don’t be shy.”

Kevin feels his blood almost boil, but he stays where he is. He just stares, he doesn’t move and so many memories come flooding back into him. “Fuck off.” He mutters under his breath.

“Anyone? Any of you losers brave enough to take me on? Nobody wants to go a round with me? I thought anything goes here! I thought this was the toughest of the tough!” Adam grabs the cage, spitting through it as he screams, before looking up, wide-eyed, scanning the crowd. “I thought—”

Adam’s eyes find his. Bright blue, wide. His lips twist up into a smile, and he shakes with soft laughter as he keeps staring.

Kevin scowls, deep and inset, it’s comfortable. So is the feeling of his neck cracking when he moves his head to the side to work out the tension that always coils there. He hasn’t stopped meeting Adam’s gaze.

“—come on.” Adam yells it, but he doesn’t move his head, doesn’t break that line of sight. “Come on!! You can’t come in here and just watch! We’re all here for the same thing—because we love the feeling of adrenaline  _ pulsing _ through our veins! I dare you! I  _ dare _ you to fight me!”

Kevin feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and it pulls him out of whatever mindset Adam was trying to push him into. He gives him the middle finger, turns on his heel and finally makes his way to the door.

“Fine, fine—oh you? You’re, okay, come on down…” The sounds of the fight pit fades as Kevin leaves. It makes him sick that Adam Cole sounds so damn disappointed.

—

“Hey.” The gruff voice of Eddie Kingston follows the knock on Adam’s door. “You, uh, need anything? I’m goin’ out to my store, to pick up some things, and I uh, figured I’d ask since you, you know, haven’t been out much. Toothbrush, earbuds, uh, condoms, you know. Guy’s gotta have his essentials. I’ll be, ah, discrete.” Eddie flashes a smile at him, leaning against the doorframe.

Adam scratches at his beard as he stares at Eddie, realizing just how long it’s gotten in the weeks since he last even thought about shaving. “Uh. A new toothbrush would maybe be good. And… maybe some mouthwash.” He swears he can still taste blood in his mouth, but he hasn’t told anyone that yet. “I know this probably seems like I’m being an asshole or something… leeching off your friend by staying here.”

“Hey, uh, not for nothing, but Mox’s demon sugar mommy gave him this place, and—” Eddie drops his voice down to a conspiratorial stage whisper— “I think he secretly gets real lonely here. He tries to do the whole lone wolf thing, but the thing about wolves right, is they  _ are _ pack creatures.” He coughs, and his voice goes back to normal. “So, get that fuckin’ dumbass idea out your head. And, uh… you know what, I’ll get you some fuckin bandage wrap too. Maybe if we wrap up your ribs, they’ll, uh… heal up, you get what I’m sayin’?”

Adam sighs, but he nods. “Ain't sure what some ace bandages might do, but maybe it’s worth a shot.” He can swear he feels the hole even when he just thinks about it. He still can’t seem to wrap his mind around it. “I kept waitin’ for this shit to get easier, but it just got more fucked up.”

“No. Not ace bandages, those aren’t good for ribs, they uh. They make it hard to breathe. Trust me. Found that out the hard way, a, a long time ago.” The distant look, the hoarse almost-tears that come into Eddie’s eyes and voice for a second are gone as quickly as they came, so quickly that Adam isn’t sure if he just imagined them. “If you haven’t figured it out already, life never gets any fuckin’ easier. It always just gets more and more and  _ more  _ fucked. Doesn’t mean it ain’t worth living, but you gotta take the good with the bad.”

“Feels like I’m just living with a whole lot of bad.” Adam sits on the edge of the bed he and Kenny have been sharing. “Kenny got the worst of it and he still seems like he’s got a better grip on shit than I do. I know that I can’t just go back to normal, but I sure as hell don’t know what direction I’m being pointed in.”

“He just hides it better than you.” Eddie walks in, and pushes some blankets aside to sit on the trunk across from Adam. “Comes from spending your whole life tryin’ to be things for other people, ‘stead of yourself.” The man sighs, rubbing his hands together. “It’s a habit that’s hard to break. I’ve seen it almost ruin friendships. Relationships. You name it.”

“I told him he doesn’t have to do that.” Adam groans, scrubbing at his face. “That’s how all this shit started in the first place.” More literally than maybe even he can explain. “If we can’t fucking figure this out, we’re just gonna keep going around in circles.”

“Instinct is instinct. Like a black fuckin’ hole.” Eddie sighs, and leans forward, halfway between sitting and standing. “Whatever; all’s I’m sayin’ is, don’t… compare yourself to him. Don’t do this, this  _ analysis _ you’re doing, measuring who’s got shit worse, okay? All of the shit’s bad. Everyone’s shit here? It equally fuckin’ stinks. 

“You wanna move past this? You get up and  _ do _ somethin’ about it, instead of moping in here about how you screwed up. But, hey. What do I know. I’m just some idiot from Yonkers, right?” Eddie stands up. “You’ll get your toothbrush, and whatnot. But if I were you, I’d think about what comes next for Adam.”

Adam feels his jaw tighten up, but he manages to look Eddie right in the eyes. “Yeah. I got it.” He has to have it, there is no other option even if he feels like whatever incident they experienced drug him back to square one. If he is going to move forward, something has to change. He’s got to actually get in the pool instead of waiting for someone to throw him in. It means talking to Death and facing that monster in the closet. “Any idea where Kenny is?”

“Think I saw him heading to the beach,” Eddie calls back as he grabs his keys.

“Eddie.” Adam stands up suddenly. “Can you figure out a way to let me talk to Death? I’ve been sitting on my ass for days thinking that there was some imaginary door I could unlock and he'd come out but… I guess fucking not.”

“Oh, you think I’m magic or somethin’, cowboy?” Eddie turns, furrowing his brows.

“I think you don’t walk half assed into a dangerous situation without knowing how to handle yourself, so yeah.” 

The man flashes a smile at him. “Yeah. You’d be right. I was just messin’ with you. I know a few things about a few things. Let me talk to some people, see what we can come up with. In my experience, that always gets the best results.”

—

“It failed.” The man sitting on the grass in the dark has his legs crossed, and he does not turn towards the clicking of heels echoing on the cement patio. “I have failed you, my love. All traces are gone, damn them.” 

He is only faintly illuminated, the light from the pool beside him casting golden waves of light across his angular face and tattooed body.

“If I can ask, my love.” She steps closer. “My dear Aleister. The spell had unwound nearly all the way, what else were you expecting to happen?”

His back tenses. “I was just hoping—we only have so much time to prepare, and I was hoping… I do not like setbacks. I don’t want to disappoint you—not after you worked so hard to find the perfect opportunity.”

“So Death and Vengeance slipped from our grasp. We always knew it was going to be hard to keep Gods leashed.” Zelina takes a seat opposite him, taking a deep breath. “You felt their desperation,” her lips quirk up into a smirk. “They will continue to break into pieces on their own.”

“Yes… but should we continue preparing for the last step of the ritual, even if they are not bound? Or do you think the demons will keep them occupied enough?” Aleister rests his elbows on his legs and sighs heavily. As if sensing his growing unease, his familiar appears out of thin air and winds its tan, fluffy cat form between his arm and his crossed leg. “Yes, hello Totty.”

“My dear.” She reaches out, cupping the side of his face. “The demons will continue to feed, Death and Vengeance will turn a blind eye to us and the witches are being led astray. There is only one threat and the hunter is being eaten alive by his own demons.” Literally and figuratively. “We make preparations, but no more hasty spells.”

He leans into it, his white eye illuminated by the moon and the Miami light pollution. “Beloved… I am sorry. I have lived—I mean, we have waited so long, and I hate waiting so much. I want to act. I want to take this disgusting place and squeeze it dry until it gives us what we both need… and in my arrogance I became impatient. Please forgive me.”

“You are already forgiven. These beings squabble and tie themselves in knots as if they were still human. Gods should act like Gods and if they are unwilling, then we will take that power for ourselves. All in due time, Aleister.” She pulls back and stares at him for a moment before sliding a small knife out of her boot and slices her palm open with a hiss. She curls her fingers in and the blood drips onto the grass, sparking gold shimmering magic until it creates an image. “Dominos are already falling into place. We’ll let the Queen and her prince do most of the work, she’s already adding to her collection.”

Aleister’s familiar evaporates into thin air, bored, as the man peers closer. “Ah, yes. Vengeance’s friend. The one he cast to the side. That will… certainly complicate things. In my meditations… I have divined the name for the ritual we must complete. Would you like to hear what will break our curse, my love?” He takes her hand, rubbing his thumb over her still-bleeding wound.

Zelina looks into his eyes, feeling the spark of residual magic float between them. “Please.”

“Together, we will bring about… the Black Mass.”


	15. Fracture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s getting hard to fight against the Hellmouth’s current. Can some of the last remaining good people in Miami figure things out before it swallows them whole?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as an FYI, we get a bit STEAMY in this chapter (finally earning our M rating!). In that scene, we also use terms for a trans man’s sexual anatomy that align with what the authors find comfortable as trans men, but some may find triggering or dysphoric (c*nt, p*ssy, etc). 
> 
> Please take care of yourselves and feel free to skip past it the scene (it starts with one person taking another’s boxers off, and the end will be marked with “***” at the end so you can skip forward)

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 15: Fracture**

\--

As Jon Moxley falls asleep, he hears the distant sound of clinking, horrific piano. He had just wanted some quiet for a moment, some time to just be still. 

But the sound is loud, and it makes his ears ring. There is a stuttering feeling in his chest before he’s forced to try and breath in even if he wasn’t breathless a moment ago. Jon sits up suddenly and then… he’s not in his bed anymore. He’s on a floor of hard flatness nowhere he recognizes and his ears are still  _ fucking ringing. _

He just hears laughter, and the dark space flickers, beams of light shining in from holes all around him, like the walls and ceiling are more paper than anything solid.

Jon is still, trying to breathe even though his chest feels tight and his hand, the one filled with demonic infection feels cold and leden at his side. He knows what this is, even if he wanted to ignore it for the better part of a week or more. He didn’t do his job well enough back at the circle.

“ _ Was _ it the circle? Or was it that you set foot in a place where you  _ clearly _ didn’t belong?” The slits of light flicker, and seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The accent is… bizarre. Jon can’t place it, and he’s heard a lot of different people, a lot of different places. “You know, your mother really should’ve taught you better. Should’ve taught you, you’d best keep your nose out of places you don’t belong. But it’s a little late for that now, eh?”

“You can cut the bullshit. I know I fucked up, you can skip to the part where you tell me what you want.” Jon is blunt, taking a slow breath in as he tries so focus.

“Alright, then. Name your price,” the voice says, as if it’s being agreeable. Jon can see a silhouette now, in between beams of light, standing far away.

“I don’t have one. I know how this works, I’ve already made my deals.”

“I don’t think you do, Hunter. If you want information… what are you willing to trade for it? You don’t get something for nothing.”

“I’m making strides for that on my own too. I don’t know what you think you know about me, but I think you’ve got it all wrong. Why don’t we have a conversation face to face.” Jon steels himself against the cold, but tries not to give an inch..

“You’ve never dealt with us before, have you?” There’s a laugh that echoes. “I bet… you don’t even know where you are or why you’re here.”

“Fae.” Jon says, watching as the air in the space shimmers like snow could fall any moment. “That’s about all I know, all I want to know. As for why I’m here, I guess you think I’ve slighted you somehow.”

“It’s not all you want to know.” The silhouette steps closer, a long coat swishing back and forth. “You asked me. To tell you what I want.” A shining white smile in the lights.

“So you want me to admit that I want something from you,” Jon snarls. “That’s not how this is going to work.”

“Well then, I hope you like it here. Because you’re in my world now.” A pale, bearded man steps forward, his long hair combed backwards to reveal pointed ears and shaved sides. He’s shirtless under the jacket, and a pendant shaped like a long thin knife bobs over his defined chest as he sits into a plush leather armchair that  _ definitely _ wasn’t there before.

Jon feels his eye twitch and then all the muscles in his demonic hand.  _ Deep breath _ . “There are people that are gonna look for me. I ain’t some sucker you tricked into a trap.”

“Well then you’re in absolutely no trouble at all, right? They’ll look for you. As you said.” The fae smiles at him before leaning back into the chair. 

“I have a feeling,” Jon takes a heaving breath, grunting as he gets to his feet, still shirtless in the stinging cold. “Even if I told you I knew Death personally, you’d shrug it off. So maybe we shouldn’t even bother.”

“I suppose you never read those Hunter tomes about the faefolk being immortal then? Hm. Too bad you don’t have your friend here to help you. I hear he’s very good at research.”

Jon stiffens at that. Eddie…. he tells himself not to play this game, knows that he  _ can’t  _ play this game, but it’s tempting. That’s the point. “I was never too good at taking my time with things, you may have noticed. I notice shit too, like the fact that you’re here with me when you could be doing anything else anywhere else. So why is that.”

“You keep  _ asking _ for information and yet offering nothing in return. I’m starting… to get a little annoyed.” Jon feels the ringing in his ears intensify. “You mannerless little Hunter. Playing at being something you’re not. Someone ought to teach you a lesson. Burning things. Wrecking things--” 

Jon stops himself from falling to his knees, but it’s only temporary. He wavers on his feet as he loses his balance. “I just… wanted to stop all the pain…” He feels his hand pulse with something dark and shuts his eyes against it.

“Well, maybe you should have thought about that before going and burning something that  _ wasn’t _ . Yours. To  _ burn _ .” The fae is standing over him suddenly, grabbing Jon’s chin in his hand and jerking it up.

“I have friends… that need my help. I can’t leave them. Not now.” His head feels so empty when Ry isn’t with him. “If you want to punish me then punish me, I’m sure I deserve it.”

“It’s not personal. Unless you have something you can offer me… I get you.” Ice-pale eyes look directly into Jon’s. “I’m sure I can use you in my realm, somewhere.”

“The hellmouth.” Jon grits out. “Can’t be helping you. Too many opposing forces. Too much chaos. I want to get rid of it.”

“No.” The man drops his chin and takes a step back, re-evaluating Jon with his piercing gaze. “In fact… in the mortal world, I’m stuck in miserable  _ bloody _ Miami. Thankfully I have a contract that lets me operate here, but… I can’t get out. I’ve tried. So. What exactly are you proposing, Hunter?”

“Let me do my damn job, what I’ve been trying to do since I got here. I close the hellmouth, you get out.” It makes his blood boil that he’s even considering this. He shouldn’t be making deals, he knows what happens even at the best of times.

“Well, given the mess you’ve stirred up already, and the fact that you claim to know a primal entity such as Death... I believe, Hunter… we have a deal."

Jon’s vision shifts out of focus and when it comes back, he’s in bed, covered in a cold sweat. Eddie’s draped over him, and if he didn’t know better, he’d almost think it was sleep paralysis.

He lets out a shaky breath and turns to press his forehead to Eddie’s, squeezing his eyes shut as if he could just will what happened away. He keeps digging himself a deeper hole because apparently he doesn’t know when to stop. 

Eddie stirs and looks up at him. “Hey, handsome.” His voice is rough with sleep, barely audible.

And then something just surges inside of him, it might be desperation, or the kind of adrenaline rush that comes from a near-death experience, but whatever it is, it pushes him to kiss Eddie hard. Like maybe it’s the last time he ever might get to.

Eddie groans into the kiss, eyes going wide in surprise, and he grips Jon’s side hard, the pads of his thumb catching along all the scars that dot Jon’s skin.

Jon arches up into it, Eddie’s hands are so warm after he felt so brutally cold moments ago. It sets everything else inside of him on fire. He pants when he pulls away, tonguing his bottom lip as if it might start to swell from the bruising kiss. “I want… you to fuck me.”

“Mmm, right now?” Eddie laughs a little, still sleepy, before he catches the fire and desperation Jon is feeling. “You’re so cold, Jonny.”

“Bad dream,” Jon mumbles out, catching Eddie’s mouth again, kissing the corners before feeling the warmth between them. “I want to  _ feel  _ you. Need to make sure you’re really here.”

“I’m here. I’m here--” Eddie kisses him right back, sliding a hand down his side into the cotton boxer-briefs Jon’s wearing before rubbing his thumb with a hip and working them down.

He shouldn’t want it so bad, not after everything, but he’s never been one to stop himself even if it feels like he’s falling. Eddie’s hands on him make him shiver and his own hands splay across Eddie’s back, demonic half claws digging in just enough to feel everything pulse under Eddie’s skin. It should scare him—but he keeps on moving forward.

Eddie moans, low and in the back of his throat, before biting out, “Fuck, man, just--just hold on, alright? Fuckin’ boxers… A little help’d be nice…” He slips a hand between Jon’s legs to cup him.

Jon pulls back and slides up onto the pillows, sliding his underwear down and tossing them away as if to show Eddie it really wasn’t that difficult in the first place, then he’s back to pressing skin to skin, chasing the touch he had to pull back from.

The other man laughs again, before sliding fingers into Jon’s mouth with one hand, and teasing his thigh with the other. “Gonna get me wet, Jonny?”

Jon just feeds on the attention, it feels good to not be cold, to not be so tamped down. He growls as he sucks on Eddie’s fingers, figuring that’s as good an answer as any to his question. He already feels liquid heat between his legs as Eddie ghosts his fingers just a little closer.

“Yeah? You want it, Mox?” Eddie works fingers down to stroke along his lower lips, still teasing. “Oh, lookit that. Barely even started and you’re already wet for me. Hungry for it, huh.” He fucks Jon’s mouth with his fingers, working them in and out.

Jon groans around them and then he lets them fall from his lips, chasing the line of saliva for a moment before he grins at Eddie. “I don’t think you know how hungry I actually am—I need it Eddie. Whatever you got.” He feels those rough but practiced fingers finally curl into him at that, he’s already so wet, the weight of Eddie against him making him  _ need _ this.

Eddie just smiles. “Oh,  _ sweetheart _ . You don’t gotta tell me twice.” He knows exactly how to touch Mox to make his toes curl, to be just right and not enough at the same time. But then, just as Mox is about to complain, Eddie moves, flipping Mox on top of him so Eddie has his hips and all the leverage as he guides Mox down onto his hard cock.

Jon grabs onto the pillows, clenching them in his fists as he arches his hips and feels Eddie’s calloused hands guide him right where he needs to be. He wants Eddie inside of him and then, he wants everything else. His lips on his, his tongue pressed against him—they haven’t done this since the incident back at that damn field. It feels good to just indulge.

“Ah-heh heh hehh,” Eddie laughs between his teeth, between kisses, between moans. “You like that? You hungry?” He holds Mox’s hips tight--there will be marks later--and then grabs his ass hard too, forcing him down hard with gravity, sinking Mox onto him even deeper and at an angle that makes both of them scream.

“Oh fuck—Eddie. Fuck…” Jon rasps out, arching as he pants and uses his fingers and those claws digging into Eddie’s shoulders to start an intoxicating kind of rhythm. “After this… after you make me come—I’m gonna ride your face until you do it again.”

“Fuck--” he feels Eddie move inside him, his hips hitching harder at that. “Fuck you, Mox, fuck you and your amazing ass and your damn  _ stupid _ mouth--”

“You love it, you bastard. Every single part.” Mox forgets about the people in the other room, forgets about everything that’s not Eddie deep inside of him and his need to feel so much more as the fire in his gut burns away his restraint.

“Oh--oh yeah?” Eddie’s breathing hard as he holds Mox, the muscles in his arms flexing, rocking his hips into Mox so hard and fast. “Why don’t you--make me prove it, you piece of shit?”

Mox can hardly think, but he grits his teeth and lets the pleasure roll over him as he leans forward and kisses Eddie’s jawline all the way up to his ear. “You love the way you still get to be buried inside me—just like you used to be.” When they were younger, much, much younger and this was all so new and bright and thrilling. Now it just warms Jon’s soul in a way that he can’t even describe. “Your cock feels so good inside me, Eddie. I want you to come and then finish me off with your mouth.”

“Fuck--fuck-ff--!!” Eddie quickly muffles his screams with Mox’s mouth, holding Mox to him by his back and his hip as he comes hard. He shakes from it, and Mox feels a wetness against his cheek as his tongue chases Eddie’s muffled whimpering. Eddie only gets like this when he’s really worked up, really turned on, and it’s really good for him--it’s how Jon knows he’s done a good job. Eddie letting go of that bravado and just  _ feeling _ . 

Jon kisses him solidly, feeling the warmth and reveling in it for just a moment before he slowly pulls himself off of him, feeling the rush in his chest as Eddie’s come leaks out of him. “God… you filled me up so good.”

“Woof…” Eddie laughs again, sharp and bright, as he brings his hand up, arm so heavy, to wipe off his face. “Fuck, man. How is your fucking pussy so good.” Eddie just watches Jon leak out onto his stomach with a satisfied smirk. “You spoiled me for life, you know that?”

“See. You think compliments can get you all the shit you want.” Mox shivers as he pulls Eddie’s hands down and presses them to muscles in his stomach, still pulled taut with effort and need. “And maybe right now, you’d be right. Fuck—Eddie, look at what you did.”

“Oh, oh yeah. What I’m still doing, you mean. You’re still all worked up, ain’t you?” Eddie presses his thumbs from reaching from the angular serratus muscles under Jon’s chest scars to press his palms flat against Jon’s abs, pushing. “All tight… gotta wring you out. Gonna make me work for it like the fuckin’ bastard you are?” He knows Jon’s weak points, and he smiles as more come leaks out with the force.

“You said my pussy was good. Now you gotta worship it.” Jon feels that liquid warmth move out of him and his whole body twitches. “Put your money where your mouth is and all that.”

“Mmm. My pleasure.”

***

“What I still don’t get,” Trent says, pacing back and forth across the living room, “is… are this Alice guy--”

“Aleister,” Orange corrects--

“--and Zelina just, you know,  _ okay _ with there being a hellmouth in the middle of Miami? Sure they  _ seem  _ evil, but there’s no way that’s good for them, right? Like, they would just get fucked up too?”

“Not sure. I mean, we don’t even know what the rules are, dude. We can’t get fucked up, but does that mean there are other people that can’t? If they know magic—enough to fuck up Kenny  _ and _ Adam I’m sure they know some other tricks too.” Chuck looks over at him, feet up on the arm of the couch.

“Damn. You’re right.” Trent looks over at him. “I guess I didn’t think about that.”

“We still don’t even know anything about this shit hardly, just that sometimes we see bonkers stuff on TV we didn’t ask to see and Orange can kinda tell the future. If you ask me,” Chuck reaches for his soda on the coffee table. “We got the short end of the stick.”

“It’s warm,” Orange says, scooting the soda away with his foot. “...did it again. Sorry.”

“Well, fuck.” Chuck puts his hands over his face as he lays still on the couch. “I don’t know what to do. It sucks that there are people out to ruin lives and we can’t do anything about it.”

Trent sighs, hurt, and he walks over to the couch, sliding his arms under Chuck to pull him onto his lap. “Hey. Don’t… don’t talk like that.” He runs a hand through Chuck’s hair, straightening it, and his fingers feel good on Chuck’s scalp. “We’ll figure something out.”

Orange walks over, draping himself over Chuck’s back like a sloth. That feels kinda nice too. Like one of those weighted blanket things they keep seeing commercials for. Or a snuggie.

“I’m really trying not to take it personally.” Chuck mumbles, staying in Trent’s grip and patting Orange’s hand wrapped around him. “But it sure feels personal.”

“Do you think we could like, go find them? I mean, we know where Kenny and Adam and Jon and Eddie are right now at least. Right?” Trent sounds like he’s trying to be hopeful.

“We do. But what do we tell them? ‘We’ve been watching you fuck and have relationship drama for over a month now’? I don’t think that’s gonna work. They don’t know us. Even if wild shit happens here all the time, it’s gonna be hard to explain why we didn’t do anything until now.” He sucks at being the voice of reason.

“Dammit! Well. What if we like, write them a--a note!”

“Leave it at their front door,” Orange adds. “Sign it with some magazine letters.”

“Yeah, exactly, Orange. But make it clear we aren’t the Zodiac guy, because I don’t want to freak them out.” Trent looks at Chuck with big puppy-dog eyes. 

“Not the Zodiac Killer. Got it.” Chuck laughs even despite his mood. “So we just play secret admirer with everyone and try to lead them in the right direction. I guess if the universe gets pissed with us, we’ll know.”

“Yeah. And we can track if they actually get it.”

“Maybe send them some fruit. An Edible Arrangement. In case we miss them reading the letter.” Of course Orange suggests fruit.

“And what do we do about the demon problem? Get Kenny and Adam to check up on Matt? Seems like crossing wires might just make everything worse.” Or speed up whatever else the hellmouth has in store.

Trent looks at him. “You said you think we’re immune. We have my mom’s, I mean my, van. We could just. Drive to that hotel.”

Chuck looks up at Trent, staring for just a moment, his hand still on Oranges. “Orange. You picking up any bad vibes from making a trip to the freaky sex hotel?”

“Nnnnope. Vibes neutral to good.”

“Well then. Let’s go.” 

\--

Nick almost feels like he’s in limbo, or at least what he thinks limbo might feel like without actually knowing. He guesses that maybe he could ask someone who’d know, considering everything, but that’s really not what he’s focused on. He and Matt have been at the Raleigh for a week and he’s starting to feel like he’s on a vacation that might never end. He told himself a few days ago that it was nice to see Matt finally, for once in his damn life relax, but he wonders if there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. Adam Cole holds Matt close as they sit across from him, his brother half asleep—curled up on the vintage loveseat that occupies the area around the pool. Nick vaguely remembers that this place was supposed to be under construction, but he’s never seen anyone but them here. 

“Can I get you anything, Nick?” Adam looks up at him like he’s the only thing that matters in the world, that single-minded focus almost unnerving.

“Nah. Although I could probably use a shower and to check on stuff at home.” He doesn’t say Kenny even though he knows he hasn't heard from him in longer than feels natural. Page too now that he’s thinking about it. He figured Matt would be more concerned about it, but Matt, doesn’t seem concerned about much.

“Well, you can shower here if you want to, and--I can send someone to get anything you need. I told you Nick, I’m here to take care of you!”

“Yeah, dude. And that’s great, but honestly I think spending some time outside of the bubble you’ve got going on here is probably a good thing. Exercise the legs and all that.” He sits up a little straighter in his chair. He hasn’t had his glamour on for days and it’s been nice, but there is something about keeping up appearances that feels routine. “Oh—speaking of the bubble, who’s living at your place if you’re  _ here. _ ”

“I have a security camera, it’s fine! And--we’ve got the gardens, the beach… you can walk as long as you want. Matt’s asleep, let’s go on a walk together.” Adam walks over and wraps his arm around Nick.

Nick feels something sink in the pit of his stomach, but he tries to ignore it, the feeling of Adam wrapped around him making him shiver before he finally gets to his feet properly. “Alright, alright… damn, I didn’t realize you cared so much about me sticking around.”

“I worry about you, Nick. You always seem like you don’t have much of anyone other than Matt. Which, I mean, that’s great, I’d love to have a brother that cared about me as much as he cares about you. But…” Adam sighs as they walk past the statuary of the Raleigh’s gardens. “I guess that means I haven’t been a very good friend to you, because, well. I obviously care a lot about your brother. So maybe what I’m really saying is, maybe I can help you make some more friends. If that’s something you want, of course.”

Nick laughs. He has to, almost. “I mean I guess I wasn’t thinking about it like that.” He has Kenny and Page and… he really didn’t think he was missing out on anything. “It’s not your fault--I mean maybe we all haven’t been good friends considering you didn’t tell us about your  _ thing _ ,” He gestures to Adam. “And we didn’t tell you about ours.” He’s still got an uneasy feeling, but he’s trying to just let it go.

“Yeah, I mean, Kenny doesn’t really trust me much but… I’d like to change that if I can. I’d like to make him think that we could all be friends, hang out here, you know? Would you like that? And maybe… that other guy too. I’ve never really met him but, I’d like this to be somewhere you feel comfortable, Nick, and where that comfort is just, well,  _ undisputed _ . Where you don’t ever have to  _ worry _ .” Adam squeezes him tighter as they walk.

In no uncertain terms does Nick ever remember talking to Adam about Page. “You have met Matt, right? All he does is worry. Did he tell you about Page? Him and Kenny are kind of a whole thing.” It’s more complicated than that, but he’s trying to not let it be. Or at least they all were until suddenly Kenny wasn’t answering his texts.

“Yeah, Matt told me. I told him, and I’m going to tell you, that it sounds like you do a whole lot for Kenny and, uh, Page, and they don’t do much for you. And that just doesn’t seem fair to me. Because when you get down to it, you’re both really. Great. Guys. And I think you deserve a bit better than that.” Adam turns around, looking him square in the face as the palm trees out by the garden’s border blow gently. It’s really beautiful...

“Look dude. We’ve known each other a long time and I think that Matt getting Kenny out of his system is great, but Kenny is still our best friend and he’s been through a lot. Sometimes I don’t think Matt can see it because he’s dealing with so much, but Kenny’s not trying to hurt anyone…” Nick looks from the palm trees right back at Adam. “So if you’re really serious about my brother, you gotta know that patching things up with Kenny is something that’s just gonna have to happen.”

“Yeah, then it’s gonna happen.” Adam rubs Nick’s back soothingly. “I promise you, man, we’re gonna fix everything. Everything’s gonna be so good here. Just wait.”

Nick fights some sort of urge to lean into that touch that crawls up his spine when he feels Adam’s hand on his back. He leans away instead. “I am all for emotional intimacy, but I’m serious about Matt. I love you dude, but don’t fuck this up.”

“I’m serious.” He backs off, acting kind of offended. “You think I’m not serious? About doing things right? About Matt?” 

“You don’t have a great track record with guys exactly.” Nick crosses his arms over his chest. “And I am picking up some vibes right now which probably have less to do with you and more to do with me. Ya know, considering Matt and I kinda feed off positive energy and we haven’t been anywhere other than here in a week. It’s a quantity thing.” 

“Well, of course you’re picking up bad vibes,” Adam retorts, voice low and dangerous. “Because I’ll be honest, you seem fucking ungrateful right now, Nick.” He slowly starts to move forward, backing Nick against the entrance to a hedge maze.

Nick squints his eyes, backing up but only giving Adam a little ground. “Ah there you are, I knew the old Adam was lurking in there somewhere.” Nick isn’t one to talk, but at least he never tried to hide it. “What exactly are you doing here in this hotel and more importantly,”

He takes a breath and looks Adam right in the eyes. “What do you want with my brother.” 

“Oh, no no no. You see,” Adam smiles wide, “I care about your brother. I do. I just want you to both be happy. You don’t get to try to  _ catch me _ in a little lie--” he gestures with his hands as his head leans side to side, emphasizing each word, “--because I’m telling the truth. I care about you, and Kenny doesn’t. That’s why I’m here and he’s not. It’s a simple matter of fact. And maybe if your skull wasn’t so damn  _ thick _ , Nick, you could  _ see  _ it. Why can’t you just. See. It?”

Nick stays where he is even as Adam tries to loom over him, those curved horns growing bigger the more bravado he pumps into himself. “I’m not an idiot, I knew something was up the moment Matt had that dreamy look on his face like you told him you could fix all his damn problems. Kenny isn’t a problem and I’m not gonna let you make him one.”

“No, Nick...” Adam says quietly, before his pupils widen so much they eclipse his irises in black. “You’re the problem.”

\--

Kenny’s sitting on the couch, tapping his fingers on his thigh anxiously. He doesn’t have his phone, video games, or anything else--Adam’s watching some old TV show while he folds his laundry, but Kenny just can’t focus on it.

“Are you okay?” Adam finally asks him, pausing mid-fold as he seemingly notices just how strung out Kenny looks. “I know that’s a loaded question, but like I mean right now.”

“Yeah--I mean, no. It’s… cabin fever, I guess. Nothing to do.” Kenny sighs. “And I’m worried about Matt and Nick. You sure they didn’t answer your texts?”

“I got nothin’. I uh… I didn’t want to bring this up earlier because I figured it would stress you out but…” Adam takes a seat next to him on the couch. “I’m worried that whatever got us, got them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean. What if that spell didn’t just target us? What if it… got Matt and Nick.” Adam looks like he doesn’t even want to continue talking about it.

“Fuck, I didn’t even--I’m--we need to go check on them.  _ Now. _ ” Kenny jolts up and runs to the door, all the lethargy from moments ago forgotten.

“Kenny!” Adam grabs for his arm, but he only feels the brush of fingertips for a moment, he’s already getting his shoes on. “We need to talk to Mox about this, we can’t just go. I wanna make sure they’re alright too, but if they aren’t… I can’t do that again. I can’t lose myself like that. I’m already…” he puts his hand over his sternum. “We’ve gotta be smarter than whatever is tryin’ to fuck with us.”

Kenny stops, his hand on the door. “Well, we’re not fixing anything by just sitting here like a couple of house… spouses. You’ve felt the pull, haven’t you? There’s souls out there that need our  _ help _ , and Matt and Nick count too, but…” The doubt and confusion and anxiety stirs up a sick feeling in his stomach, and then the doorbell rings, startling him half out of his skin as he literally falls over.

“Jesus!” Adam rushes over to help him, grabbing his arm and pulling him up with ease. The strength is new too. Some sort of new power just manifesting itself. “See this is what happens when you get too wound up. Take a deep breath, I’ll check the door.”

Adam being strong is… nice, though. Kenny would be lying if he said he didn’t almost always want someone in his life who was big and strong and could take care of him. He had it once… he didn’t think he’d be lucky enough to get it a second time.

Adam still has a hand on his arm as he gingerly opens the front door, peeking his head out. “What the fuck…”

Kenny peers around the edge of the door, and sees a plastic wrapped something, mostly orange and red in the plastic. “Is that… flowers?” He steps closer and picks it up, turning it around. “Oh, no it’s one of those fruit bouquet things. ‘Edible Arrangements.’” He reads it from the plastic wrapper as if it’s some kind of clue, but he already pretty much figured it was from them. Kenny notices a sticky reminder on the door and peels it off too before stepping back inside. “Who would send us one of these? Ugh we have to call the store, the delivery person already left...”

“Uh… it’s got a note on it.” Adam brings the wrapped fruit basket inside. “Maybe it’s for Mox, this is his house after all.”

“A note? I mean, do you think he’d get mad if we like, snuck a peek?” Kenny can’t help it; he’s ridiculously curious. Mox has a demon in his head--she wouldn’t need to send him a fruit bouquet, and who else does he know that cares about him? I mean, true, he and Adam don’t know much about the man…

“Doesn't seem like something Mox would like, but I’ve been wrong about stuff before. If you look, just make sure that stays between us. I uh… don’t wanna be on his bad side.”

“Yeah, it’s just between us. But you should look.”

Adam squints at him, but does it anyway a second later. “Okay…” he fiddles with the tag, accidently pulling it off. “Oh fuck… uh… now he’s gonna know we looked at it.”

“Fuck, well, what does it say?”

“Mat… trouble... Sex —M?” Adam grimaces. “What the fuck even is this?” He turns the note over to Kenny.

“It does say ‘To: KA’ though. So I… guess it’s for us? But how would someone even know we’re here? And who’s ‘M’?” Kenny turns it over in his hand, trying to see if maybe there’s something that Adam didn’t see.

“Well at least I don’t feel so bad for desecrating a damn fruit basket that’s not ours.”

“Yeah. I’m a ‘K,’ and you’re an ‘A’, so… we’re all good, right? Except for the fact that… I mean, it’s not about the doormat, right?”

“Kenny… I don’t think it’s about the doormat. At least… hey wait are those chocolate covered strawberries in there?” Adam pokes the cellophane.

“Holy shit, they are.” Kenny feels like they should talk more about Matt and Nick… but something is itching in his brain about the fruit. It looks so  _ good _ ... “Come on, let’s open it up… I don’t know about you but I’m so fucking hungry even though we don’t really need to eat.”

“Silver linings on this whole thing I guess…” Adam nearly rips open the bag. “We should tell Mox about Matt and Nick. Right now, he and Eddie can probably help better than us, especially if something is wrong.”

“Yeah, yeah, we should.” Kenny reaches over Adam to get a strawberry. For some reason all he can think about is his stomach…

“Yeah… I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” 

“It’ll be fine--we’ll take care of it. Jon and Eddie will help us take care of it…”

Adam’s eyes look glazed over for a moment before he nods in agreement, leans over and kisses Kenny on the forehead, and Kenny just falls into it. It’ll be fine...


	16. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time shifts, spells are cast and choices are made. When you knock on Death's door, he always answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a big one for you. Enjoy!

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 16: Sleep**

“Uh. It didn’t look like a condemned building when we saw it on TV, right?” Chuck feels sick to his stomach. Maybe condemned isn’t the right word, but it’s absolutely not the sparkling, clean Art Deco resort that’s flickered between static on their television for months at this point. “It literally looks like a horror movie could take place here.”

“No. I think I can pretty definitively say. This is FUCKED.” Trent pushes himself higher up so he can try to see over the wrought iron fence covered in boards.

“So what now? This place looks like it’s about to be torn down, Matt and Nick are trapped inside and it’s clearly sitting outside of reality or whatever the FUCK. Orange you got anything on this?” It’s a shot in the dark, but Chuck isn’t sure they have anything else to go off right now.

“Just wait.” Orange is drinking a smoothie out of a bottle while sitting against the fence. “You’ll see.”

“God, I love you, but I can’t  _ believe _ you got the annoying power.” Trent shakes his head.

“Hey Orange.” Chuck takes a few steps forward, his sneakers crunching against the loose stone. “Can I ask you a stupid question?”

“No such thing. So shoot.”

“If you got the future power… how come it just comes to you, and me and Trent… got nothing?” 

“You’ve got something. I just… don’t know what. Can’t tell.”

“Well. How do you figure yours out?” Chuck looks over at Trent before looking back at Orange.

“Dunno. Just… came to me I guess.” Orange shrugs absentmindedly as he takes a slurping sip from his small bottle.

“Fuck. Man that is so not the answer I wanted.” Chuck slides down to sit next to Orange. He should have brought something to drink, he didn’t think this was gonna be a waiting game.

“You want some?” Orange holds it out. “Have you tried…  _ doing  _ something supernatural?”

Chuck takes it. “What does that even mean, dude? Doing something supernatural? Trent, you got anything?”

“I uh--Echo… tango. I got a bogey. Ten-four?” Trent stage-whispers from his perch, getting increasingly animated as he gestures to them.

“Fuck!” Chuck leaps up, grabbing Trent and pulling him down and out of view—almost tumbling into the bushes. “What did you see?”

“Nick and evil Adam are like, best friends now? They’re playing Mario Kart? It’s messed  _ up _ .” Trent fidgets with the baseball cap he’s wearing, taking it off to smooth his hair before putting it back on.

“How the fuck did you see that just looking over the gate?” Chuck furrows his brow.

“Cuz they’re playing in an outdoor covered pavilion thing, duh. It just… looks like it’s fallen apart and the TV has a giant crack in it.” Absolutely a horror movie. 

“Orange. Can we get Nick out? Gimme a read on what’s really going on in there.”

“I--I can’t see anything, it’s just like… the weird brown you get when you mix all the colors…” Orange sounds uncharacteristically panicked.

“Okay, well… shit. Okay. Hold on. What if… what if one of us could like, see through their eyes? One of us has to have the present if you can see the future, right?” Trent flexes his muscles, which if everything wasn’t already just super fucked, would make him worried. 

“Dude… what does any of that mean? Do you know something I don’t?” Chuck gets to his feet.

“I mean, you’ve seen A Christmas Carol. I  _ know _ you’ve seen the one with Mickey. Christmas Past, Christmas Future, Christmas… the other one?”

Orange sighs. “Christmas Past, Present, and Christmas Yet to Come,” he corrects gently.

“Yeah, exactly. You remember, Chuckie?”

“I remember. I just… how are you or me or anyone but maybe Orange supposed to know how this works.” He can feel the anxiety balling up in his chest, he’s normally not like this, but the vagaries are making him panic and the real horror story unfolding around them is finally catching up to him. One slow drip at a time.

Suddenly, Trent is wrapped around him, holding Chuck against his chest. “Dammit… we’ve got to figure something out. If only we could…” Something at the corner of Chuck’s vision flickers.

The hedge and gate. It’s subtle but… the brown, overgrown hedge and rusted gate… almost look newer. Fresher somehow.

“Wait. Just—“ Chuck holds Trent closer. “I can see something—”

“What?” Trent looks at him, and it’s gone. “What is it?”

“It was—dude, I think it’s you.” Chuck pulls back just slightly. He’s not sure... he’s not sure about  _ anything,  _ except how much he loves Orange and Trent and that they need to do something. “The last time changed something, we just kinda wished it. Just—try and wish really hard that you want to see what’s really going on in there.”

“I mean, if something happened like a minute ago… I was just thinking about how much I wanted to keep you and OC safe.”

“Oh…” Chuck feels his chest warm even despite the tightness in it. “I guess let’s just try again.” He tries to take a deep breath and takes Trent’s face in his hands. “Kiss me.”

“Oh,” Trent echoes, obviously taken by surprise, but leans in. He puts his hand on Chuck’s neck, strong, warm, and reassuring, as they kiss. It’s hard to fight the temptation to close his eyes…

He keeps them open through, seeing past Trent even if all he wants to do is  _ feel. _ Then he sees colors blur and everything he couldn’t see before is suddenly so clear. The rusted gates are gone and everything they saw on TV finally becomes clear. Beautiful palm trees, a sparkling pool… and Nick. God…

Chuck sees the dead look in Nick’s eyes, as he and Matt and Adam Cole sit and play Mario Kart together--Nick playing like Adam, but just… less.

Chuck pulls back and takes a deep breath, lips tingling. He blinks and shakes his head. “It’s… bad. Cole did something to Nick. I don’t know what it is, but it’s weird and it’s like… no one's home.”

“Don’t like it. Doesn’t feel good,” Orange says, lips set in a frown. “Fuck.”

“Orange! Language!” Trent whispers harshly, but Chuck can tell he’s worried too. “Fuck, this is all so messed up…”

“I felt like I wanted to hate him just because he was so smarmy, but he didn’t do anything that hurt anyone… and now this happened.” Chuck doesn’t know these people, but he feels like he does. Watching their lives, seeing the intimate moments between them; like a TV show that you just can’t stop binging. 

He knows that Nick always tells Matt the truth no matter what. He knows Matt is so in love with Kenny Omega that when they slept together, it broke something inside of him. He knows Adam Page is so scared of losing himself to Death that he hasn’t taken his shirt off any time other than showering since he realized there was a gaping hole in his chest. 

He knows Kenny loves Matt and Nick more than he could ever actually tell them. Just… not that way. 

He…  _ knows _ .

_ He knows. _

?!

\--

“Hey, Matt, great job, babe,” Adam says, gently pushing his hair aside before kissing his ear. “You beat me. You wanna hang with Nick for a sec? I need to go take care of something for Britt. Something about the pipes.” He smiles.

“Okay. Just—bring back some snacks or something. None of us need to eat, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” Matt sighs and sinks father back into the couch. He knows he’s just kidding himself being here, living in this moment, but it’s hard not to take someone up on the offer when they offer it, and Adam… Adam’s been good. “Hey.” He pokes Nick’s arm. “You’ve been quiet about trying to drag me out of here. Change your mind?” He laughs.

“Yeah… so. About that. I’ve been thinking.” Nick smiles wide, his eyes suddenly brighter than they’ve been in days. “I actually really,  _ really _ like it here… I was just so in my head, you know, that I couldn’t see how good we have it. You know?”

Matt laughs again, pushing Nick’s shoulder. “Come on. Are you serious? Yesterday you were telling me that we needed to go home. Which, you’re probably not wrong about—just… it’s nice to not think of all the other shit we’ve been dealing with.” It’s not like he doesn’t miss Kenny or even Page, it just… aches to think about that sometimes. 

“I mean, we could go home and get our stuff, but… honestly? We belong  _ here _ . It’s like X-Men, or Harry Potter. We belong with people like  _ us _ .” Nick puts his hand on Matt’s knee, rubbing it before pulling back abruptly.

Matt looks at his knee and then back at Nick before something itches in his brain and the thought he was having just vanishes. Nick is still looking at him, waiting for his answer almost impatiently, like always. “I just…” It is nice here. Matt hasn’t really thought about Kenny or Kenny’s problems since he spilled his guts to Adam. “Are you sure?”

“Matt… I mean, it just makes sense. I am sure.” A pause. “And you know if I’m sure, I’ll either convince you now… or convince you later.” Nick pulls his hands back to place them on the edge of his seat, eagerly leaning forward for Matt’s thoughts. “So, what do you think?”

Matt could swear for a second that Nick’s eyes look like they belong to someone else’s face… but it’s probably a trick of the light.

“I…” Matt squeezes his eyes shut like he’s trying to think, like he’s trying to figure something out, but whatever it is leaves his brain seconds later. This is the smart choice. They are safe here. No need for glamours and they have what feels to Matt like an endless supply of compliments via Adam. The next part slips out of his mouth before he can even really think about it anymore than he has. “Yeah… yes. Let’s stay.” 

“I’m glad. And--we can go meet his friends sometime, too. We don’t just have to stay here. But I want to make this feel like home. Don’t you?” Nick’s so excited. It feels more like Nick… and it helps smooth the worries out of Matt’s thoughts.

“What about Kenny and Page?” Matt has to say it even if his brain is pushing him in so many directions at once. He always hones in on one.

“Mmm… maybe we can get them to come too. We can all be happy together. Adam can keep us safe.”

Matt doesn’t know when that started to feel like something they needed, to be kept safe, but it sounds good. Having everyone here sounds so good it makes his chest feel warm and he slides back, melting a little into the couch. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Adam takes care of us. We… don’t have to be the ones taking care of everyone else any more. Adam and Britt.” Nick sounds so peaceful. So serene.

There is a sudden and sharp spark of panic in Matt’s chest, but it’s quelled by something and then… what was he anxious about again? 

Nothing. He’s got no reason to be anxious here and once Kenny is here… they can be a family. Like it used to be, but… better. 

“It’s perfect.”

“I’m so glad you said that, Matt.” Nick leans in for a warm hug, and everything is right.

\--

“Fuck,” says Chuck.

\--

“So, we’re doing a seance? I just wanna make sure I understand.” Adam Page sits, already cross-legged and skeptical on a blanket on the beach. The colors that are smeared across the sky in the twilight of the day almost make him forget he’s got a gaping hole in his, but he’s still alive. Almost. “Not that any of this makes a fucking lick of sense.”

“It’s not a seance. Death isn’t  _ dead _ . I know what you’re thinkin’ but just stay with me,” Eddie chides as he stirs what looks like a thick lotion in a glass jar. “He’s just dormant, inside of you like deep, deep down. We gotta bring him out so he can talk to you and Kenny. That part of you, anyway. That make sense now?”

“I don’t know how any of this fucking works. I don’t know what’s me, I don’t know what’s him—I don’t even know what he is or why I’m this. I think… that’s the whole damn problem, man. I don’t remember nothin’ from the second he’s known charge. That’s… that’s why I hate this so much.” 

“And that’s what we’re gonna  _ fix _ , but you gotta be patient. Jesus, cowboy. I can only work so fast… Kenny, come get your man. I gotta gather the candles.”

Adam puts his head in his hands. He’s not entirely sure he can do this. He knows he’s been hiding from it, but he thought he at least had a better chance after trying to get the rest of his life in order. The supernatural still seems to overpower everything else though. What if Death takes over and he just… drowns?

“Hey.” Kenny’s voice is soft and kind as he puts a hand on Adam’s back, splaying it out to cover and hold Adam. “Talk to me. What’re you thinking?”

He has the impulse just to shut down, but he tries to fight it.  _ Talk. Explain how you’re feeling. No one will get angry at you.  _ He tries to remember words he’s been told before. “What if I just fuck off and never come back? Like… What if Death shows up and decides he’s tired of me and wants to run the show? What happens to me after that?”

“That’s not what Eddie’s planning to do. He’s planning to like… pull the Death side out of you. So you can talk to him. So  _ we _ can talk to him. So we can understand what he did to me, too. I get being scared. But… I trust Eddie. He’s been dealing with talking to spirits for a while. And he saved our lives.”

“Look. I know… I know all that, but sometimes it just feels like no matter how much I think I know someone or something, life just throws another new thing in.” Like constantly swapping out parts so Adam can never catch up. “I should just trust the professionals, I guess.”

Kenny turns around, taking him by both shoulders. “Also, I love you.” He leans in for a gentle kiss to Adam’s forehead. “And nothing is gonna change that.” He pulls back so Adam can see his smile. “Take it or leave it, cowboy.”

Adam takes a breath, ignoring the hollow whistling feeling in his chest. “Okay. Okay I got this. We’ve got this.” They have to have this.

“Good. Now... give me a hug? Because I’m scared too.” Adam knows he’s been missing his friends--and not even Eddie has been able to find them. But one step at a time.

Adam wraps his arms around Kenny and just, holds him. “We’ll find Matt and Nick.” He doesn’t know if he can make that promise, but he has to. For Kenny.

“Yeah. I know. But we have to find you first.”

“Alright, alright,” Eddie comes back with an armful of candles. “No, no, keep cuddlin’, but I need to know if you’re ready, Hangman.”

“I don’t think you can be ready for this, but we’re gonna have to try to be.” Adam nods and he still has Kenny’s hand, squeezing it. He’s not sure he knows where Kenny got his courage from, but he remembers hearing half of a long conversation between Mox and Kenny a day or two ago and… well, he doesn’t know anyone with more courage than Mox.

Kenny pulls back to sit on his own but squeezes Adam’s hand, smiling at him, the perfect picture of warm and reassuring. “I believe in you.”

“Hangman.” Eddie’s voice demands Adam’s attention, and his gaze snaps from Kenny to the laser-focused eyes in front of him as Eddie squats down to his level. “You’re gonna have to go to some dark places. Some lonely places inside yourself. Corners you ain’t gonna like. Trust me. You gotta dig deep and find Death. But your connection out here--” Eddie beats his chest “--your  _ heart _ , that’s what’s gonna bring you back, okay? So you hold on to Kenny’s hand. You hold on to what makes you,  _ you _ . Make that your anchor, and you’ll find your way back, ya hear me?”

Adam feels his stomach lurch, but he feels Eddie’s eyes burning into him, his words ringing in his ears. He won’t forget it. “I hear you. I really do—I just. Let’s do it.” It’s like jumping into a cold pool or ripping off a band-aid. He holds on to Kenny’s hand tighter. “Should I… close my eyes?”

“Yeah. Both of you should… go ahead.” Eddie starts lighting the candles set up around him, chanting something in a language Adam doesn’t quite know or understand. He feels splashes of warm liquid on him, Eddie’s hands tracing something on his back in lotion, but the longer it goes, the more those sensations fade away, until he’s floating away like he’s falling asleep.

But he’s not asleep.

He’s… he’s in a farmhouse. It feels familiar and not at the same time. It’s clean and white and so  _ bright  _ inside that it hurts his eyes. There is a cup of coffee sitting on the large kitchen counter, and vases of sunflowers scattered around the large space in yellows and golds and deep reds—the color they get when it gets too late in the season. He looks out the large kitchen window and the only thing he can see for what seems like miles, is poppies. A field of bright oranges and reds splashed against the rolling hills he can see further in the distance. He doesn’t know where this is, but… he feels like he’s been here before.

There’s a knock at the door, and it startles him out of his reverie. Slow, patient, not insistent.

Adam tries to center himself and as he breathes deep, he notices that even beneath his white cotton t-shirt he feels whole. No gaping opening, no skeletal hand. He’s… this is normal. Or at least some measure of it. He hears the knock again and slowly walks through the expanse of open space to answer it.

The door opens to a beautiful sunrise in the distance, and his front yard is another poppy field… but the red of the poppies gives way to a red light, and a skeletal man wearing a black cowboy hat, a black leather vest over a skeletal chest, and black chaps. The shadow the hat casts is so large that the man’s face is lost in it, but even so, he reaches a skeletal hand up to tip his hat. “Could I pardon you for a cup o’sugar?”

“I…” Adam almost doesn’t know what to say. It’s so clear who this is. “Yeah…”  _ Don’t fight it.  _ “You can come in.”

A bony smile appears from under the hat. “Thanks.” Cowboy boots clunk hard on the wooden floor of Adam’s entryway before landing on soft carpet. “Well. It’s finally just you an’ me, eh? Come to pass on the torch?”

“I don’t know if I should be scared of you or if I should… be thanking you.” Adam stands in the middle of the living room. “I don’t even know what this place is or what I’m even supposed to ask. Am I supposed to let you out there while I sit in here?”

“No. Sit down. Let’s have a chat. Unless you wanna talk with all of us. But I thought we could talk  _ mano a mano _ first. This is just… a space your mind made for us. Think of it like a happy place.”

When Adam sits down on the plush grey couch, all he can hear is the sound of birds outside through the open window and the large grandfather clock ticking in the relative silence. “So.” He sees Death sit down in the big leather armchair across from him. “Why me?”

Death sighs. “Well, that we both know, Adam. As much as you try not to remember.”

“I. I didn’t ask to be brought back.” Adam admits. “You die. That’s it. You’re gone. I don’t care who asked or what they thought they were doing… he didn’t have the  _ right. _ ”

“That’s how it’s supposed to go, yeah. But it didn’t go that way for you. And you can either stay bitter and complain about it… or own it. Just like you didn’t ask to get anxiety, or blond hair, or anything else.”

“So I have to live with the consequences of someone else’s choice? And what? Kenny is this way because… because fate decided it for him? It’s…” Adam tries not to get angry, he tries not to lash out but all it does is make it worse. “You know…” His voice dips down, coated in sadness. “Brandon still tries to call me at least once a month?” He hasn’t picked up. Not for a year.

“Are you here to yell at me, or you hear to listen? Because yellin’ ain’t gonna get you very far here.”

“I’m… I just needed to say it. In case you weren’t paying attention, I don’t get to do that a whole lot.” Adam looks right at Death. “Things are spinning out of control and I don’t know how to stop it.”

“Okay. Well, in that case. Let it all out. You know what? Let’s do that. I already know a lot of it. But I wanna make sure you’n’ I are on the same page, darlin’.”

Adam balls his fists up and suddenly he feels his chest burn, like he’s been keeping in so much that it finally started to wear away at him. “Seeing people die… not being able to stop it. It  _ sucks _ . And… I can’t stop feeling terrible about because if I stop, if I do something to turn that off, then what the fuck does that make me?” Not human, that's what it makes him. “Every time—it feels like I’m watching it happen for the first time. And I’m so fucking bad at this shit… and then Kenny… Kenny just  _ gets _ people. He gets angry but it… it’s different. They aren’t fucking scared of him like they’re scared of me.” How can you try so hard at something and still be so bad at it? “And if I suck at this, if I can’t do what I’m supposed to? Then what was it all fucking for!”

“Are ya jealous of Kenny?” Death looks up at Adam for the first time, and his eyes are red, glowing points of light.

“Yes… no… I don’t know! It’s not his fault, we’re supposed to be this team, but I don’t even know what that is? How does it work, why does it work? I see him do things, amazing, kind things and then I see him be this unhinged personality a second later and… I like both.” He’s never admitted that before. 

“Hnmm.” Death grunts noncommittally.

“What’s that fucking mean?” Adam narrows his eyes. He’s not sure how he went from being scared of Death to yelling at him like this, but here they are.

“You like all of him. But you aren’t sure if you can cut loose like that, eh?” Death sinks into the couch next to him. “Vengeance doesn’t give him a choice, just unlocks all that. But you’re still holding back. Still full of self-doubt and poison. You’re not sure if you actually love Omega, or if you just love the thrill of it all. Never knowing which side you’re gonna get.”

“I… can’t do that to him. It’s not a game, but something inside of me likes gambling like that.” Adam swallows hard. It’s hard to admit. “I don’t know how I can just… tell him that.”

“How did it feel? When you lost control and just gave into those impulses? Spent a week with your flesh decaying, just worshipping his body?” Death’s voice gets even lower, barely a gravely rumble. “Or are you scared to think about how much you enjoyed it?”

Adam feels a shiver run through him. “I… that wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t himself, wasn’t even anything I’d ever seen before. You can’t tell me… I was supposed to enjoy that.”

“Fuck ‘supposed to,’ Adam. Be fuckin’ honest with me. With  _ yourself _ . Or can you not even do that here? If you can’t, I don’t know when you’ll be able to, and you might as well kiss Kenny goodbye.” Death’s eyes flash red, and anger rolls off him--Adam knows, because he feels it. Death is part of him, like it or not. “You called me here, but I don’t have to stay.”

Adam squeezes his eyes shut. “I felt… it felt good to lose control.” He didn’t want to admit it, he still doesn’t. He hated feeling like he couldn’t shut it off, but everything else… the way Kenny looked at him, the way he  _ felt _ just letting go… he can’t even describe it. “I hated knowing someone had done that to us, that I couldn’t just… send Kenny to turn them to ash.” Having that thought was maybe the thing that sticks in his chest the most. “I don’t know what to do with any of this...”

Death sighs long-sufferingly. “First off… admit you like it and stop bein’ such a fuckin puritan over it. Kenny likes it on the bottom, but he likes bossing you too. You like being told what to do, you like being put in your place and overwhelmed by it. Am I right? Jesus, you’re a cowboy and you act like you’ve never seen fuckin’ Brokeback Mountain...”

Adam wants to spit something nasty back, but it seems like Death has a sense of black humor and knows him better than he’d like to admit. “Learn all that from sitting in my head?”

“Duh. I’m incarnate in you. So. I gotta suffer with all your…  _ brain problems _ . Isn’t that bad sometimes… Kenny’s pretty fuckin’ great if I do say so myself. Damn good Vengeance. But he’s got his own issues, he seems like he’s good at divin’ into something head-first as a way of ignoring them. Plus, it’s obvious how he feels about you. Loving, and a lil bit codependent.”

“This is… give me a second; this is a fucking lot to process.” Someone being in his head, knowing things he hasn’t dared to try and even examine yet. “So do you and Vengeance like  _ talk? _ Known each other for a long time? What? I’m assuming Kenny’s about to have the same kind of conversation so I’m trying to be prepared here.”

“No, we don’t  _ talk _ . We don’t even really exist outside of you, so we can’t talk if you don’t talk. Cept for the time that we took over. That was nice…” Death gets a smile on his face, but coughs. “In times of great need and all that, we come together. To fix things. Sometimes the people we get… saddled with are more suited to the task, sometimes they have problems. It’s one of those things. Destiny’n’all that’s a messy thing. Just because you’re destined, doesn’t mean you’re perfect. Sometimes it’s just luck of the draw. And it’s up to the person to make the best of it. Honestly, I’m just glad you’n’he are at least okay with gettin’ down and dirty. But like I said. We don’t exist without a body, really. We can’t make you like anything you don’t already like. Not really.”

Adam had heard the same thing from Vengeance, the last time they had had a conversation. Just enhancing what’s already there… “So no compulsion. No doing things you or someone else wants me to do. Just…”

“Just spicin’ it up a lil bit. You got it.”

Adam leans back on the couch, putting his hands on his face. “Guess there is no more figuring it out one step at a time now that someone wants us to… well, don’t really even know what they fucking wanted.”

“Just think about it, Adam. You’re… the avatar of Death. Sure you didn’t ask for it, but Cutler thought he was doin’ you a favor. Paying you back when your life was cut too short. Didn’t realize that you have to trade somethin’ for a life… Sweet, sentimental,  _ foolish _ witch, it’s more’n spell slots and  _ dice  _ in the real world--” Death sighs. “But I digress. You’ve got somethin’ few people in this dreary world have.”

“I’m gettin’ that. Bad people want bad things.” Adam looks at Death. “So. In order to figure my shit out, it’s about admitting that all the things I feel when you push me are… part of me.” The anger, the lust—the exhilarating feeling when he sees Kenny smile at him with fire behind his eyes.

“ _ Yes _ .” Death smiles a bony, toothy smile as he exhales the word, the glow in his eyes dancing.

“I don’t like the way you said that, but… I’ve got it. I can’t promise that we don’t need to continue to work on this shit, but… I ain’t unreasonable. Kenny needs me. So does Matt and Nick. So. You want me Death, you got me.”

Death laughs, a rasping thing. “Oh, boy, you scare easy. Like I said… I think we can work good together. I like Omega. He’s a good Vengeance, and… well. I feel how you feel about him, even separated like this. So. You ready to accept everything you can do that no one else can?”

“I’m ready to find the people that wanted to make me some sort of animal and give em’ a taste of their own medicine.”

“Atta boy. So. Strength. Reaping souls. You know that already. Believe it or not… once you are to reap a soul, nothing can stop you.” Death smiles, and the drawl drops to something older, primordial. “Save yourself.”

“It pulls at me all the damn time. A focus I can’t shake. Anything in that path… I can just… push it aside. It can be turned to ash.” Adam feels red smoke pool behind his tongue, it tastes floral. Then it pours out of his nose.

“Yeah. Now you’re gettin’ it. You have to control that anger though. Just like Vengeance. Channel it. Sometimes it’s useful, sometimes it creates more obstacles than it’s worth.” Death leans closer, breathing it in. “What else do you feel?”

Adam feels his worry for Matt and Nick shift to the forefront of his mind, his desire to help people even if he’s not sure how. The smoke changes from red to an almost pearly white—his heart heavy in his chest. “I want to help my friends.”

“Have you tried... to call to the dead?”

“No.” Adam feels the rumble in his chest. He hadn’t even thought of that. He’s never wanted to disturb anyone.

“Sometimes… just brute strength alone isn’t enough. Sometimes you need something a little more powerful. The void, and the damned. Not all souls deserve a peaceful rest, Adam.”

“Channel that power.” He stops. “My power.” He can control it. He can wield it. The damned. That’s his connection to Vengeance, the reaping of undeserving souls.

“Good. Keep in mind what feeds ya. And don’t lose sight of it, nget corrupted. There’s poison inside everyone. But you have the power to help people. Let  _ that _ be your panacea for this cruel world, yeah? And keep in mind. You can find allies in the strangest of places.”

If Adam owns it, this power, instead of making it something alien… he won’t lose himself because it will be part of him. He remembers what Eddie said, that he’ll always have an anchor back. If he remembers it’s there. “I think I got it.”

“Good.” Death reaches out to him, putting a bony hand on his shoulder. “You ready to go back?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Adam nods, breathing out the rest of that smoke.

“Come here, then.” Death reaches into the cavity under his ribs, fingers coming back with a thick, burgundy fluid.

Adam swallows hard, eyeing the thick, dark fluid. “What are you doing?”

“Enhancing your senses.” Death paints the fluid, which smells like poppies, over his lips. “Now close your eyes.”

Adam does as he’s asked, fighting down the resistance he wants to have. He can’t do that. Not anymore. He can’t be afraid.

The substance is warm on his eyes, calming, and feels like when his meds kick in. “Open.”

When he does, he’s surprised to see what he does--

Himself. But it’s Death. Those decayed holes in his face, shining white teeth, sharp and shark-like peaking out under. His eyes are so blue he swears he can see the twilight of the sunset in them.

Death’s bony hands take his face, and that other version of him, that near-mirror image pulls him close--and kisses him.

It feels so strange...strange but...then it feels so good. “Mmm.” He lets himself go, just like Death asked him to and he presses hands against warm skin, feeling smooth bone as he deepens the kiss.

“Mmmm--”

He feels like a warm, heavy reassurance rush over him as he kisses the tongueless Death, and melts into him out of compulsion. He never thought it would feel so  _ right. _

And as he floats in the feeling--

“--mmmf!” The lips pull back. “See, I  _ told _ you a kiss would wake up my prince.”

“I swear to God Omega! I am going to throw you into the ocean if you bring fairy tales into this shit one more time.” Jon Moxley’s gruff voice is the first thing he hears after Kenny and then he slowly blinks awake.

“You said the smelling salts would bring him back because it was taking too long, and  _ I  _ just had a better idea.” Kenny jumps up, hands immediately on his hips.

“Omega just calm the fuck down for a second, he’s waking up now.” 

Adam groans and squeezes his eyes shut again as he rolls over on the blanket laid out on the beach. How long was he out?

“Okay, well--fine. I’d just like  _ someone _ to admit that I helped--wait, Adam?! Are you okay?” Kenny rushes over to him, holding him as soon as he processes.

“Yeah. Feels like I have a bit of a hangover, but I’m processin’ it.” The drawl of Death feels heavy on his tongue, but it feels  _ right _ . He. He did it. 

“Did… did it work? Did it--help?”

“You tell me.” Adam sits up a little more, touching his face tentatively and feeling the hole in his right cheek, the teeth beneath—he feels the warmth and the gaping hole in his chest. He feels how scared and relieved Kenny is at the same time and he feels how small the flame of Vengeance is inside of him at the moment. “Wake him up, Kenny.”

“What?” Kenny looks at him, face folding from worry into confusion.

“Let me talk to Vengeance, Kenny. You’ve kept his flame small… afraid if you let it grow any bigger than you’d turn into a monster. That forced change, those ugly emotions, you didn’t do that. Vengeance isn’t that.” He looks Kenny right in those blue eyes. “Wake him up.”

“I--” Kenny looks at him panicked for a second, eyes wide. “I  _ can’t _ , I can’t be like that again… we have to wait until Eddie can do another--”

“ _ Kenny.”  _ Adam takes Kenny’s cheek in his skeletal hand, watching as it slowly repairs itself, his face doing the same. “Please. You have to trust me. I may not have much together, but I think I figured this out.”

“okay.” Kenny’s voice is small. “Okay.” A deep breath. “Guess I always wanted to be a ninja turtle…”

“It’s okay--I’ll be here…”

Another deep breath, and Kenny closes his eyes, concentrating--and then Adam feels the flame of Vengeance flare up as Kenny thinks of a million things, the things that have kept him from being happy, the things that were stolen from him, the awful things people have called him, the terrible things people say to each other. It all makes Kenny so  _ angry _ but he bottles it up… and that’s what comes out as he throws his head back and Vengeance comes out, eyes bright red and nostrils flaring with purple smoke. “Soooooo… Adam Page. The Hangman. Death. You finally figured it out? Are you ready to take out those awful, pitiful people who tried to steal our power?” A wicked smile, bearing fangs. “You look so beautiful like this--”

“Kenny. We’ll take care of those people, yes. And will I enjoy it? Yes. But you’ve got some things to do before we can do any of that.” Adam levels a stare at him. “So be a quick study, darlin’.”

“A-anything! Anything, just  _ tell _ me and get it over with!”

“Find a balance. We’ve got to find a balance. Anger is righteous and pure and fiery—but it’s also dangerous. If your flames burn out of control, they are going to set everything on fire. Before we do anything, we need to find Matt and Nick. You’ve hidden this part of yourself from them… it’s time we show them too. No more secrets.”

“No more secrets, but--if I burn it all down… everything will be  _ cleaner _ , Death… burn down everything into cleansing fire. And then good things will rise from the ashes…” Vengeance-Kenny turns his head, canting it up so he’s looking down at Adam with wild eyes.

“Burn what needs to be burned, fire helps things grow.” He knows, he’s burned fields before when he was younger to make room for new growth, but it was always controlled. “I didn’t see that before, but now… I am on the same page. But… you have to let me help you. This is what this partnership is. You have the sword, I guide your hand.”

“I--but what if you get scared? What if you… run away again?! How do I know I can trust  _ this  _ Death when you aren’t…” Vengeance gets angry, eyes flaring brighter. “When you refuse my help, when you turn me away? How am I supposed to feel like we can work together in sync when you’re  _ afraid  _ of me?!?” He stands up. “I know you are--you try to treat me with kid gloves, like--like I’m crazy, like there’s not a  _ reason _ Kenny is this way, like there isn’t a place for Vengeance--”

“I did and I’m sorry.” Adam feels deathly calm. “I’m sorry I said that and did that. I’m probably half the reason someone was able to warp you like that in the first place.” He tries to sit up a little straighter, tries not to take his eyes off Kenny. “I don’t blame you for being angry, I would be angry. You can be angry with me all you want--”

“I don’t  _ want _ to be angry with you, I  _ just _ \--”

“--but I am trying to tell you that we need to be on the same page, even if that means feeling this out. Our friends deserve that. We’ve not… been very mindful of them.” He feels the guilt slam into him when he realizes it.

Vengeance--Kenny--sighs. He can see the two halves of the man standing in front of him coming together--and both sides know that Adam is right.

“It sucks. But… I have a feeling no matter what happened to them, even if it wasn’t our fault, we’ve been selfish.” Trying to fix this thing between them instead of asking for help, trying to make sure everyone was on the same page.

“Yeah. And--you kept trying to message Matt, didn’t you. But when I was all messed up… all I wanted you to do was focus on me. Because… god. And… I probably broke his heart, didn’t I? And he’s out there, god only knows where in Miami…” The flame flickers as Adam feels all the sadness in Kenny well up.

“So we fix it together. That’s the only thing we can do.” Adam puts his hands firmly on Kenny’s shoulders. “We find Matt and Nick and then we apologize. Then we all take care of this thing.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s uh--that’s what we need to do. That’s what we were  _ made _ to do, huh.” All the energy has left Kenny for now, like a deflated sack of hot air losing all its bluster.

“Yeah.” Adam sighs out, that white smoke following. There is a beat of silence where he can only hear the waves and then—

“Hey!! You figure it out over there yet?” Mox calls from near the water.

Kenny turns to Adam. “Was--there anything else?”

“Just… take it easy. And… once we get this taken care of,” Adam pulls Kenny in close, whispering into his ear. “Remind me to tell you that I think both sides of you are hot. Gets me more worked up than I’d admit.” It’s not the time or place but he had to get it out.

Kenny flushes, his cheeks turn red, and he looks like he’s about to say something before the umbrella that was acting as shade when the sun was still out gets caught up in the wind. “Uhh--fuck, no, it’s getting away!”

“Ah damn, I’ll get it.” Adam squeezes Kenny’s shoulder before he gets up from his spot sitting cross-legged, bare feet sinking into the sand as he chases the umbrella down the cool night beach.

It tumbles down the beach, and he runs past Mox, who doesn’t even have a chance to process what’s going on before he moves past him. Adam spots the red and white umbrella a second before he trips over someone laying on the beach, going flying head-first into the sand.

Who the fuck else would be on the beach this late?

“What. The fuck,” the person groans. There’s sounds of footsteps on the beach too--and then Kenny’s voice.

“Adam! Oh my god--wait. Kenta? Oh my god, I’m so sorr--you’re in Miami??”

Adam hardly registers what happens after that, he feels the handle of the umbrella in his hand and the water lapping at his side as a wave rolls in. Kenny’s voice and then a distinctly irritated one. 

“Yes, I’m in Miami. Doesn’t it look like I’m in Miami?” Adam can hear the other man groan and laugh sarcastically. “Fuck you, Kenny. Of course you’re the one who interrupts my nap. It’s always about you.”

“What the fuck?” Adam finally gets to his feet after a second, throwing the now-closed umbrella down and brushing sand off of himself. The man in front of him is handsome, that’s the first thing that jumps out other than the fact that he’s bundled in a hoodie, short lavender-tinted hair sticking out the front. The second thing that he notices is how  _ familiar _ he feels. And that it shouldn’t surprise him that Kenny somehow knows this stranger on the beach but it does. .

“Yeah. What the fuck. That’s what I said. Do you normally go around knocking into people and ruining their naps?” The man glares at him, and somehow the intensity is not diminished by him wiping sleep out of his eyes. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Death.” It rumbles out of him even though he doesn’t mean for it to, eyes glowing blue for a moment as something lights up in Kenny simultaneously. 

“Oh,  _ Death _ , right!” The man--Kenta--smiles wide and chuckles before his smile turns into an angry frown. “You think that makes it okay for you to just run into people?” He walks up to Adam, eyeing him up and down, the air tense.

“You… I am fucking sorry, okay?” It should rattle him that he admitted who he was to a stranger and there was nothing but recognition, hostile but there. It doesn’t. All that Adam feels is a need to smooth this over and the most itchy case of deja vu he’s ever had. “Why are you even yelling at Kenny? He didn’t do nothin’--I should be asking why we're all having a pissing contest on the beach in the middle of the night.”

“Calm down,” the man says, breaking into a smile again. “I’m just messing with you.” A beat. “Put it here, brother.” And he opens his arms wide.

Adam looks between Kenta and Kenny, feeling something nudge him forward which gives him the push he needs to tentatively, almost awkwardly, enter the embrace. He makes a face at Kenny, puzzled. “So you are…?”

Adam feels himself getting very tired in Kenta’s arms as the man squeezes him tight, his thoughts fading away from him. The last thing he hears is Kenta’s voice... 

“Sleep, bitch.”


	17. Gluttony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon makes a bad decision. Kenny makes a business decision. Jon makes more bad decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Imagine the ending scene taking place to Midnight Rider by The Allman Brothers Band.

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 17: Gluttony**

\--

“Are you gonna be okay watchin’ over all this shit?” Mox doesn’t ask often, he usually knows better than to ask Eddie like this, but he’s bone tired. Being the emotional support for two people who hardly have themselves glued together takes more out of him than he’d like to admit. “Not ideal, but here is the best place for them while we get things sorted.” He leans against the doorway, cool night air making him pull his leather jacket closer, a second skin to protect from the chill. He wants the cigarettes in his pocket so badly he can already taste the menthol on his tongue.

“Yeah, I got it. You’re lucky I had that sleeping powder stuff just cooked up, otherwise we might still be trying to get that all sorted out, bet it only worked cuz he’s the god of sleep or some shit.” Eddie scratches at the top of his head. “Are _you_ gonna be okay?”

“You’re probably gonna be knee deep in some more soap opera drama bullshit when they all wake up. Try and keep Kenny’s head on straight and absolutely do NOT let them try and come after me.” Mox reiterates, avoiding Eddie’s question until the last possible beat of silence between them. “I’ll be fine. Demon deals don’t work on me, ain’t nothing gonna get under my skin unless I want it to.”

“I--” Eddie fumbles for the right thing to say, Mox can see it on his face, before his nostrils flare and he growls. “I’m still gonna fuckin’ worry about you, asshole. Goin’ into a demon queen’s den… That might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, on a long list of stupid shit.”

“I ain’t saying don’t worry, I’m saying this should be just figuring shit out. I’m not making any deals, I’m not looking for trouble. I do some recon or whatever and then make a plan.” Unless he sees an opening and well… Mox can’t promise anything.

Eddie sets his lips in a grim line before he responds. “Okay. But you better fuckin’ kiss me good before you go, or you can kiss comin’ back here goodbye, Mox.”

“You would kick me out of my own damn house, wouldn’t you?” Mox laughs, a slight smile curling into his lips. His brain still itches for a cigarette and he knows he’ll probably smoke the whole pack on his way across town.

Eddie smiles too, the tension easing just a bit as he lets out a chuckle. “Duh. Don’t say you wouldn’t deserve it, either.”

“Never said that. Now come here.” Mox pushes off the doorframe, grabbing Eddie’s arm and pulls him in for a kiss. He tries his best to ignore the quiet discordant piano tinkling in the back of his mind.

Eddie kisses him back, all desperation, grabbing at Jon’s shoulders before they pull apart. “Now go ‘em, tiger.”

“You call me if something happens here with this clisterfuck, got it?” Jon tells him after they pull apart, the taste of Eddie’s own habits still on his tongue. 

“You got it.”

Jon takes one last glance at the couch, three gods asleep in various positions. At least they look peaceful.

If only the rest of Miami could say the same.

\--

“So, babe, can you help me out here or am I walking into another haunted house blind as a bat?” Mox never really cared about being unprepared before, sometimes he even relished it, but something about this feels different. The Raleigh resort and hotel, scheduled for construction well into the next year, looks as pristine as can be. “It’s fuzzy around the edges, so there is a glamour on this place.”

_“Oh, hello to you too, darling,”_ answers a male voice. _“Well, let’s see. I decided to give you some fairy sight, lucky bastard that you are, so you can see both if you really wanted to. Figured it might be helpful for our mutual endeavors.”_ The new voice in his head, the fae, has a smart remark of course.

_What did you do with Ry?_ His mind feels so fuzzy, he hates this. He hates that the fae is in his damn head. He’s already got too many things going on. His hand aches.

_“Oh, I didn’t do anything to her. But we have a pact too, and mine… takes precedent.”_

_Well then. What can you tell me about this? Seems like the hellmouth runs right through the so-called Demon Queen of Miami. Just don’t know the connection to it. Got anything? Or are you just here to mock me?_ Jon takes a couple of steps forward, lighting this third cigarette.

_“I know about as much as you do, mate. Trust me, if I knew more, I wouldn’t be stuck here. But as it is, my hands are a bit tied.”_

_So I’m just helping everyone out, I guess._ Isn’t the role he set for himself and he won’t let anyone forget that he’s doing most of this begrudgingly, but it seems in this case he doesn’t have much of a choice. His body is a vessel not only for a demon, but now he’s bonded to a fae creature he knows next to nothing about save for the fact he’s indebted to it. “Fuck it. Why not just knock on the front door.”

_“You know, if you wanted to know more, you could just ask. Hell, I might even give you the answer. Call it… feeling generous.”_

_Yeah? I’ll fall for it once. What’s your deal? Just passing by in Miami and got stuck? Don’t you have your own shit to run?_ Jon doesn’t trust the voice in his head now, but he’s willing to feel it out just so he can at least try and understand.

_“Yes, if you must know. I didn’t think there would be a… situation here. I had business to attend to, and then someone did a ritual that ripped open the fabric between the planes. Nasty, nasty business. Death was busy for days.”_

_So you have met Death_. Not a question, just a statement as Jon walks around the front gate and kicks it open. No one locks the front gate of a resort. Not when you’re supposed to have guests.

_“Not met him. Let’s just say… familiar with his work. I don’t_ kill _people, if that’s what you’re asking. ...often.”_ A pause. _“That gate’s seen better days, hasn’t it? Shame whatever glamour they have on it doesn’t actually fix rust…”_

_Sure. You don’t kill people, you just collect them and keep them all for yourself or whatever the fuck you do with them._ Jon rolls his shoulders as he slides through the gates and heads right for the front door.

_“So rude, Jon. What do you even know about the fair folk? Not much, I’d imagine. Given you saw fit to step into one of our circles without even looking. I thought hunters like you were supposed to be_ good _at sensing magic, but no, no, no, you had to just go and step right into it, didn’t you?”_

_I get a bad feeling, I act on it. I had a bad feeling._ It’s really not hard to understand, he’s simple. Cut and dry. _I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not like the rest of the hunters you’ve probably duped. I don’t condone what they do, don’t want nothin to do with them._ If there was another word he could use to describe himself, he would. So far, he’s got nothing. The overhang he steps under flickers, almost glitching in his vision. One second it’s pristine white, the next, it’s in disrepair. He knows someone’s home, it’s just a matter of time until he meets them. _So. What’s your name?_

_“Interesting… Well, Jon, I’m_ so _glad you asked. King Jay, of the Winter Court. At your service.”_ Jon gets the mental impression of a bow and a flourish.

_King of…? What exactly is over there anyway?_

_“Wouldn’t you like to know. No, no, hunter--or better yet, demon-charmed. You don’t get that one for free.”_

_Demon-charmed…_

_I’m not interested in giving you anything else, so, let’s call it a swing and a miss._

Jon peers through the French doors, frosted glass making it hard to see past anything before he tries the door handle and watches as it practically swings open for him. 

The lights are off… and it looks like nobody’s home.

_“Oooh, spooky.”_

_Just so I know. Something happens to me in there, I die or otherwise become indisposed… rights to my mind and body revert to…?_

_“Oh, Ry gets those. If you’re dead, you’re no good to me, frankly.”_

_And if I fail to close this hellmouth?_ Jon should know the answer to this, he should have gotten it when he made the damn deal, but being needled with questions and half frozen to death can make someone irrational.

_“You keep trying until you succeed. The only thing that relieves you of the pact… is death, my friend.”_ A laugh, and more piano. _“You do love living on the edge of a knife, so shouldn’t be too much of a shock.”_

_I don’t see what else you get out of this. What you get outside of what I want…_ Jon freezes in place. There feels like there has to be another layer to this.

_“Ah, you see… that gets a little complicated. Let’s just say… I wouldn’t be able to step foot where you are now, and that’s something that goes back far before I was even born. So, you’re doing me a_ great _service.”_

_Shh--_

Jon thinks the silence as his footsteps echo in the empty lobby, that half-glitched picture of things smoothing out at the sides as if someone had adjusted the dial and made everything perfect and pristine again. He hates this tip-toeing around shit. So he puts a stop to it. “Anybody home?” He doesn’t get anything for a moment, everything eerily silent. 

That is, until the phone at the front desk starts ringing.

Just like every horror movie. How in the hell does he get himself into these situations? Jon gives the lobby another glance before he walks to the front desk and tentatively picks up the phone. “Do I have to answer the phone with a hello?”

“Well, you don’t have to… but it sure would be nice, handsome,” a female voice purrs through the receiver.

That’s funny. 

“I wasn’t exactly trying to hide my approach, so I take it you saw me comin’ about a mile away, give or take?” Jon can suddenly smell the scent of strawberries in his nose, tasting it on the back of his tongue. Magic almost always has a signature, and right now, he gets the impression he’s being sized up.

“Of course. This place is mine. You’re on my turf. I’d be _stupid_ to let someone just… walk in without my wanting them to. Why don’t you, and I, have a little _chat_? Come up to my office.”

From down the hall, the elevator dings, startling in the otherwise-silent hotel.

“We can have a nice, friendly chat. Let you ask all your questions.”

“You always have no guests or…” Jon hangs onto the phone as he walks around the front desk, making sure his path to the elevator is actually clear. He doesn’t like the fact that she said she wanted him here.

“Well, now I have one, sweetheart... But a few of my guests are out. If you really _must_ know.” Her tone is gratingly superior… but somehow Jon still feels that lust curling at the edges of his mind. He tries to stay aware of it, catch it creeping in. He warded against it before he came in here, his arm still stings where he drew blood for it. 

“Figure that’s something else we can talk about. Your… guests. I’m comin’ up.” He abruptly hangs up the phone and makes his way to the elevator, his boots loud in his ears as he walks across the empty lobby. The elevator that meets him is almost too pristine, gold twisted into something that seems almost out of time. He enters and feels slight dread as the door closes behind him, the elevator rumbling to life after.

It slowly rises, _The Girl from Ipanema_ softly playing as the elevator goes up, and up, and up. This one doesn’t stop at any other floors, so there’s nothing to occupy Jon other than his own thoughts. Which he’s trying to stop from racing. His head is quiet and that makes everything _louder._

He’s brought back to reality when the elevator dings again and the doors open to a small hallway. Beyond, Jon can see a sunny room filled with peach curtains, a sprawling ivory sectional, and a crown molded ceiling. Everything screams expensive and effortless at the same time.

He hears a woman’s laugh--the demon’s laugh--from a door beyond.

He feels a sense of calm try to take over him and it’s so strong it’s dangerous. He fights through the haze that threatens to fog over his brain. He’s not here for this, he’s here to figure things out. No getting distracted or walking into a trap. Even if that feels like exactly what he’s doing. “I thought you said office.” He mutters almost to himself when he finally enters the room.

It is an office--much as the white shag carpet and pale gold drapes and accents put him in mind more of some kind of Old Hollywood dressing room; it’s almost aggressively coated in some kind of gaudy luxury. The ostentatious ivory desk at the center of the room forces you to look at it… from what he can see under the weathering, Mox’d guess it’s solid oak or something even more expensive. There’s even a mauve-ish love seat facing the desk, puckered velvet upholstery shining in the muted sunlight, like she’d expect some kind of actual business to be conducted here. Fitting, he guesses, for a lust demon whose empire sits in an abandoned hotel.

Said lust demon is of course sitting behind said desk, wearing a white choker-collared tank top that matches her white hair. The impressively deep cut out leaves nothing to the imagination, and stands out against her neon fuschia skin. She smirks, icy blue gaze focused on him as she turns her large executive office chair from side to side. He goes to open his mouth to say something, to take control of the situation… when the couch _moans_.

Jon feels like he should take two steps back and maybe keep going after that, but some part of him is morbidly curious. He puts his hand on the back of the loveseat and moves close enough to see what’s making the noise on the other side. He… shouldn’t be surprised. “Am I… interrupting something?” A vampire lies tied against the pink cushions, a pale pink ball gag shoved into his mouth exposing his fangs. He looks like he’s been strung out for days.

“Didn’t I say I’d be expecting you?” The demon smiles brightly. “Oh, him… Cody.” She snaps her fingers. “Be a good boy and go sit in the corner while Jon and I do business, okay?” The vampire nods meekly and gets up, and Jon sees a flash of pink silk before he goes and nestles himself behind a small array of potted palms and greenery, watching the demon intently.

“Is that what you do? I guess I don’t know what I was expecting but… It wasn’t that.” Jon looks back at the couch and isn’t sure he wants to take a seat. 

“I’m a _lust_ demon, sweetie. Or what did you think I did? Come now, take a seat--I promise the couch is clean.”

Jon exhales a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and takes a seat on the couch, slouched over like he realizes he may have to grab for something sharp if this entire situation breaks worse than it already has. “Where are the rest of the people you’re keeping here?”

“ _Keeping_ here? Oh, I don’t ‘keep’ anyone. They _want_ to be here. Seems you’re asking all the wrong questions.” 

“Oh? So that’s it. That’s rather old school demon deal shit. Get someone to say yes and then you own them. You just… make saying yes feel better.” Jon laughs shortly. “Gotta feel good to get what you need from willing participants.” Jon sits back a little on the couch. This isn’t as unfamiliar territory as he thought it might be..

“Well, you would know. Wouldn’t you?” She leans back in her chair, and her impressively-large chest heaves with a sigh as Mox swallows. He’s not a saint--and she knows it.

“I would. Which is the only reason I’m sitting having this conversation with you and not on my knees licking your boots.” Mox levels his gaze at her. “Seems like you’ve got a good thing going here, why expand and threaten to bring people like me to your doorstep.”

“Two words for you: growth. And change. Not everyone’s lucky enough to have their special human to be tied to for a supply.” She raises her head a little, and with an elevated voice adds, “Isn’t that right, Cody?”

The vampire moans in the corner and Mox wonders what exactly he did to earn the position he’s in. It’s probably best not to dwell on it, but he can’t help but think most vampires reap what they sow. “I’m gonna take a stab in the dark and say the hit you get off of other supernatural things that go bump in the night is much better than just humans.” He’s starting to connect the dots.

“Ah, you’re learning. Smart boy. You’d fit in well here, you know…” She leans forward enough to rest her elbows on the desk.

Mox has to laugh, the magic in the air making the skin on his demonic hand tingle. “Me? Fit into your perfect little pink horror show? I think we’re gonna have to agree to disagree.” Not that he hasn't taken shady deals before, but he’s already double booked.

“Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I _thought_ I smelled Gluttony on you. Are you sure you’re doing okay, though? You seem a little hungry to me.” She gets up and walks over to him, perching herself backwards on the arm of the loveseat. “Isn’t there _anything_ I can do for you?”

“Give me Matt and Nick Jackson.” Mox levels with her, irritated the way something dark bubbles in his chest when the demon inside of him is spoken to directly. Ry is still silent in his head, but the problem has never been her. It’s been what he suppressed for years before his unfortunate encounter with the fae.

The thing he’s refused to reckon with.

“Oh, you’re _so_ hungry, dear.” She reaches a clawed finger up, and curls it before rubbing against his cheek like a cat. “You haven’t taken care of yourself in ages…” She purrs at him, voice full of the promise of temptation. “And yet you’ve jumped so far down the rabbit hole. More than I bet you’d like to admit. Your patron took such good care of you, and despite her influence… you’re becoming one of us.”

“Don’t—“ Jon tenses up, closing his eyes as he feels the warding sigil he’d carved in his arm earlier burn. “Do you have any idea what will happen if you break the dam and send all this supernatural bullshit out into the world? You can’t sustain it. The more demons you make, the more people you tempt, there won’t be enough energy to feed them all. I don’t think feral would be a good look on you.”

“Oh, I know that, sweetheart.” She’s petting his beard now, claws combing through it soothingly, it’s criminal how good it feels. “Not everyone’s cut out to be a demon, after all. But all of them can be tempted. And as the hellmouth grows, it will be easier and easier. They’ll grow more little humans, more lambs to the slaughter. And it will become our paradise.”

He wants to pull away, but—he doesn’t. Jon feels like he could fall asleep. It’s the burning in his good hand that keeps him from falling completely. He manages to steel the pieces of his resolve he can collect and grabs her wrist. He doesn’t pull her hand away. “There are other things that live here. Older things than you.”

“And I take it they don’t want to come out to play?” Her lips are so close. A wavy lock of white hair hangs in front of her face, and this close, Jon can see it’s actually a very pale blue.

“Do you really want them to?” Jon squeezes her wrist in warning, but it’s not half as hard as it should be.

“I’m not afraid. Let them come.” She leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his forehead, before carding her other hand’s claws through his hair slowly.

He doesn’t want to kill her. Not here. Not like this. Even if his blood sings for something, anything at all, to grab a hold of—that darkness inside of him is being fed at the moment. Jon could deny how good it feels, but he’d be kidding himself. “I’m not gonna take you out and you know it.”

“I know.” She just smiles at him. “Cody… come here. I want you to take care of our friend for me. In return for his generosity.”

The vampire whines, and gets up only to kneel in front of the demon, baring his gagged mouth. “Good boy. You see, Jon… vampires are actually demons, just like us. Bet you didn’t know that, did you? Envy. They don’t have horns… but they do have fangs, and they get _so_ jealous. They’ll do anything to feed the hole that jealousy burns in their gut. And Cody here… all he wants right now is to be a good boy. He isn’t even thinking about blood, are you Cody? I bet you can take care of our hunter friend _so_ well--”

He sees the vampire circle around the couch, licking his lips, pupils wide and _drooling_. Jon’s pretty sure he’s never seen a vamp drool before…

This is an intensely bad decision. It’s… something he can’t or shouldn’t be thinking about, but the way the vampire is looking at him… it’s startling something deep in his soul. His whole arm aches suddenly, that black, angry flesh inching up his arm.

Suddenly the demon is right next to his ear. “Choke him, hunter. It will feel so good… to make him struggle… and he wants it. Look at him.”

Inch by inch that blackness creeps up his arm, slowing plugging itself into his shoulder, a black pulse across his chest. Jon swallows, slowly, looking at Cody’s pupils blown so wide he can hardly see the blue color there. His demonic claws touch pale skin and then he’s digging them lightly into his flesh.

Cody starts to moan, loudly, before it’s cut off from the pressure around his throat, turning into a wheezing grunt. Cody’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, and the drool pools around his lips as his eyes close in what can only be bliss. “You can do it as long as you like, hunter… you know he won’t die.” 

“What if… I want to make him _bleed._ ” Mox says, voice echoing with something otherworldly at the end, taking his clawed thumb and teasing Cody’s wet lips with it. 

“Oh… he loves to blee--”

A harsh rattle comes from the window on the other side of the room, past the desk, and the demon immediately stands up, incensed. “Who _dares_ \--”

Another comes after that and Jon blinks—then he sees Cody at his mercy and abruptly pulls away.

_I don’t care who answers this but get me the fuck out of here._

_“Jon! Oh my god, Jon--just jump out the other window, there’s probably like, an awning or something--”_ Ry’s voice is panicked, but hearing it in his head is almost enough to make him cry.

He’s up a second later, vaulting over the back of the couch and running until he can barge shoulder-first into the window. He’s got no idea what waits for him on the other side. It’s a gamble and if he ends up a mess on the concrete, at least he’ll have his dignity.

The fall down nine stories seems to stretch on until forever--and all Jon has is his thoughts as he closes his eyes.

And then pain. Blinding pain. Bones snap, and so does his neck. Then. It goes black.

\--

**Two Years Ago**

“Kenny. Try the plug now. I think… I think I got it.” Matt doesn’t know jack shit about electrical outlets or breakers or anything like that, but he’s been flicking switches and checking boxes for at least thirty minutes now and he’s pretty sure _one_ of them has to work. Kenny is way too excited about this fighting game tournament he organized for him to at least not try to help fix something if he can. It kills him when something crushes Kenny’s spirits.

“Okey dokey... moment of truth.” Kenny holds the plug out at arm’s length before bringing it in with a big kiss to his lips. “Don’t let me down, baby.”

“If this doesn’t work, you’re probably gonna have to call the guy that owns the building.” Matt calls anxiously, but he’s crossing his fingers too. If he could hear Nick rolling his eyes in the background, he’s sure he would have heard it by now.

“Yeah, yeah.” Kenny flourishes, pounding down on the ground and kneeling as he plugs it in like the fucking Terminator. “ _Okay, now press the power button_ ,” he orders in a stage whisper, holding the pose.

“It’s not a power button.” Nick whispers behind him and Matt smiles and shakes his head as he flips the switches in the breaker back over. The lights flicker for a second. “Did it work?” 

A few seconds pass… and then a chorus of TVs and consoles light up, chirping brightly. 

“Oh my god, you guys… I think we might! Have! Done it... wait for it…” Kenny holds up his hands, waiting frozen a good five seconds before pivoting on his toes and staring right at Matt and Nick. “We did it! We actually, really did it!” Kenny jumps up and screams, running towards them.

“I mean, god, we had to make sure we got our money’s worth for all those TVs we rented. We couldn’t just let them sit.” Nick’s lips curl into a grin after his comment and Matt catches Kenny in a hug as he steps away from the breaker box in the back room.

“Oh my god, oh my _god_ \--I couldn’t have done it without you--I mean, look at us! Who would’ve thought?!” Kenny’s arm feels good and solid around Nick’s shoulders before the blond man dives back in for another squeezing hug.

“Just happy to help. And happy that I don’t have to sit back here and flick switches for another hour.” Matt stays close, closer than maybe he should, just for a second. Just to feel Kenny and his infectious joy. Or at least that’s what he tells himself.

“Hey, look at everything you did, man.... I mean, you got a budget together, you built that really cool hadouken sign out of plywood… Come _on_! I know I’m the owner and all, but you’re the real brains of this operation.” Kenny effuses at Matt. 

“Matt’s gonna melt if you keep laying on compliments like that.” Nick pokes at him and Matt reflexively swats his hand away. 

“Shut up.” 

Kenny pulls back, chuckling at what he takes as a joke. “Come on, Nick, you can’t can’t melt from… from _compliments_...”

Someone knocks on the door, and Kenny jumps a bit, startled. “Oh, that must be Woods—” He clears his throat. “ _I’ll be bachhh_.” Of course it’s a pitch-perfect Arnahld impression. 

Matt watches Kenny rush away. He rolls his eyes and laughs, the sensation of Kenny’s joy in his chest. It’s something he’ll never be able to really describe, but it somehow makes the ache that sits there somehow deeper than before. 

“Wow, Matt, better watch out. You’re glowing about as bright as one of these arcade screens right now… you thinking ‘bout Kenny being your, uh, Player Two? You know nobody should be inserting a coin into any slots until after marriage, right?” Nick’s smirking as he crosses his arms over his chest. How does he manage to sound so infuriatingly smug about stuff like this?

“Nick, it’s not like that and you _know it._ Kenny is… he can’t be anything other than just a friend. You know it and I know it. So…” He doesn’t know what else he can say. Kenny has Kota and they are all friends. “You know there is no way I'd sabotage this by saying anything.” He’s good at compartmentalizing, even if Nick seems not to think so. “It’s fine.”

“Uh, okay, whatever you say. But… you know this is just gonna keep feeling like this until Kota gets his visa straightened out, right? And then after, it’s gonna feel even worse?”

“What the hell are you saying, Nick--” 

“Omega! All this time and you finally, finally invite me to this place? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to keep it a secret. What? Afraid I’d come here and whisk away all your customers?” Matt’s only ever heard about Xavier Woods from Kenny. It seems like Kenny has some sort of knack for collecting rivals. 

“Well… _Woods_ … You’re so _picky_ you’d scare everyone away if it wasn’t up to your high standards!” Kenny’s words are derisive but playful… friendly rival, then.

Matt thinks, as he leans against the door to the back room, that Kenny really doesn’t understand exactly what he does to people. 

\--

**Many Years Ago**

_“Just--fucking watch where you’re stickin’ that thing.” No matter how much pain you endure, how many drugs you snort or whiskey you drink… Mox thinks you really never get used to the hot wash of sensations you feel when you’re sitting, raw and exposed, waiting for someone to sew you up. It’s just lucky for him that Eddie’s done this more times than he can count on his fingers._

_“For fuck’s sake, Jon, stop acting like I haven’t stuck every kind of fucking needle into you already. You want my belt or something?” Eddie perches over him, squatting and obscuring the dim glow from the streetlight out the window._

_“Kinda fuckin’ different when you’ve almost had your guts ripped open. Wasn’t even a supernatural son of a bitch either. Startin’ to think humans might be the worst, actually.” Jon grits his teeth and takes a shaky breath. “And no I don’t want your belt. Will take the rest of the bottle of Jack after, though.” His vision blurs a little, but he’s not sure if it’s him being on the verge of passing out or something else._

_“Took you this long?” Eddie just laughs before wiping off his forehead with his forearm. “Alright. Pucker up, sweetheart. Bettah make this quick.”_

_“Fuck--off--”_

\--

“Fuck, man, what are we gonna do about the blood on the carpet? I mean, _eventually_ your mom’s gonna want this van back, right?”

“Yeah. Eventually. But eventually isn’t now and I don’t know what the fuck we’re supposed to be doing aside from this. I thought when we met Mox it would be over something badass… not this.” 

The first thing Mox feels is some numbness in his legs and then his fingers. Then a ringing in his ears. Then he smells… french fries?

“Life comes at you fast,” another voice says from closer to Mox, as a bump in the road sends his head rolling into a brown paper bag, making a crunching sound.

“What the fuck does that even mean, Orange?”

Yep.

French fries.

“I heard it on a commercial once.”

The voice coming from the driver’s seat finally replies again. “Can someone _please_ , I dunno, check on our guest or something? I feel like we’re being way rude. I really don’t want to have to call Sue...”

Mox’s stomach lurches and his neck aches, but he’s--alive. 

  
  



	18. Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mox finally gets some answers, Adam learns the history between KENTA and Kenny, and we get a much-needed heart to heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, when we started this after Full Gear, we had no idea this would turn into a LITERAL epic that stretched out as long as it had until another PPV. Thank you all so, so much for your continued support!

**Miami Vices**

**Chapter 18**

**Pride**

“Knock twice if we can leave the cheeseburger inside the door and you won’t try to rip anyone’s face off.” Mox can hear the voice from the other side of the door, back plastered against it as his body aches and pulses and all that blackness bleeds out like ink on the white tile floor before it inches back up again and he feels it like hunger manifests inside of him. Sharpness, blood in his mouth and a terrible hollow ring in his head. 

“Can’t—ThINK.” His own voice feels like a metallic echo against everything else.

“Uh, Chuckie, do we count that as a knock, or what?”

“A semi-coherent thought that wasn’t just growling… I’m gonna count it as a win.” 

Mox hears the rustling of a bag and then the door handle being wiggled.

“Easy, big guy.  _ Easy _ . I’m not gonna hurt you.” A small package of meat and cheese wrapped in colorful paper slides in, with a man’s arm attached, pushing it past Mox’s thigh as far as it will go, with Mox still blocking the door. 

For some reason, Mox’s mind jumps to the image of a cat reaching under a door—a memory?—before both it and the arm are gone, his head hitting the back of the door as it shuts behind him.

He’s alone again, even if he can hear muffled voices on the other side. He smells the grease from the package that was slipped in and the hunger inside of him burns. He’s not sure he needs food, but he wants it. He knows what might quench the hunger inside of him, but he’s still unwilling to give it what it wants. Black slime drips off his hand before coiling itself back around and forming claws. A long tongue lolls out of his mouth before a deep growl reverberates in his chest. He tears into the cheeseburger a moment later. 

—

“Okay so let me see if I’ve got this straight.” Adam Page takes a deep breath and then lets out one long exhale. “You and Kenny knew each other before, but you both didn’t know either one was in Miami and now you’re both just—embodiments of god-like entities.” He keeps trying to map over the processes in his brain, how any of this could possibly be a coincidence and he can’t quite do it. Adam doesn’t want to think of the alternative either, though. How all of this could just be one intricate puzzle someone is putting together because they have all the pieces.

The man nods while he pops some hot chips into his mouth. “Hypnos. Infinity. Sleep. However you wanna think about it. That’s what I do.”

“And you just knew to show up here? Doesn’t that all seem like wildly… fucked up? Or am I the only one who sees that?” Now that Adam has passed the hurdle on Death, he’s thinking way too much about the  _ why _ of the situation. 

Kenta just shrugs. “I live on a boat, dude. Thinking about the  _ why _ isn't really my thing. I just do things.”

“And so we’re past all the openly hostile shit that was happening like seven hours ago?” Adam isn’t really sure about the placement of time, he just knows that sometime between then and now he fell asleep and he’s not entirely sure that was supposed to happen.

“Listen. There’s some places you don’t go: you don’t interrupt a man’s sleep. Or nap. And Kenny always manages to find a way to fuck up my life whenever he shows up. Everyone else? Neutral. I’m willing to give them a chance. But I’m not gonna do the same for Kenny until he can show he’s fucking changed.” More crunching.   
  
“Uh. You gonna let me in on what’s exactly happened between you two?” Adam asks and then he realizes it sounds very presumptuous and familiar. He’s never met this man before in his life. “I mean I guess you don’t fucking have to, but I am… we are… we have a thing going on.”

“Whatever, that’s—listen, you’re a grown man. Just because we’re brothers doesn’t mean we have the same taste. But it doesn’t mean I have to like him, either. Even if he’s a Prime Force too.” Kenta opens up his bag of hot chips wider, and then holds it up to his face, squinting with one eye. “Dammit. Empty.”

“Wait… when you say brothers you mean like… you and Death right? I uh—I don’t think I could take anymore earth-shattering news when it comes to my personal life right about now.” Even if it makes his head spin, Adam is grateful that there at least seems to be someone who knows what's going on and who’s willing to talk to him about it. “Seems like you know more about this stuff than I do even after trying to sort some shit out.”

Kenta huffs out a long-suffering sigh and leans against the counter of Mox’s island. “You’re Death, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Adam raises an eyebrow.

“Then we’re brothers through some weird bullshit I don’t really get yet. All I know is when I sleep, I dream, and one of those dreams was about a literal relationship… web thing. Death, Vengeance, Sleep, and Life. Don’t know who the fuck Life is yet, but if we’ve all three finally met, then we’ve gotta meet them eventually.”

“So more pieces.” Adam leans back on the couch, looking almost through Kenta. “You ever feel like someone’s just emptied out a huge puzzle box and is slowly putting it together? Because that’s the weird feeling I’m getting and I don’t fuckin’ like it.”

Adam hears snoring and looks back, realizing the lavender-haired man has fallen asleep sitting there, his head perched on his hand with his eyes closed.

“Sleep I guess is literal.” Adam scrubs at his face. Mox should be getting back here soon, at least. The more the hours tick on since he left, the more worried Adam feels in his guts. He sent Kenny out to take a walk to calm his nerves, Eddie is milling around but quiet. For as many steps forward as they take, it seems like there are too many back.

—

“Uh. What do we do next?”

“I don’t know—I mean, we have powers now, right? I don’t think I’m in the mood to, uh, make out with  _ that _ happening on the other side of the door though…”

“Fuck that, dude. But I don’t think that’s the way it has to work. I just had a thought and went with it, gotta be something else. Some other kinda connection that’s not just smooching.” Tentative silence and then Jon comes back to himself for at least a moment. 

“Why am I here?” 

“Well, you see, that’s kind of a long—”

A third voice chimes in. “You fell out of a building. You were a pancake, and then you tried to come back to life while you were still flat. Somebody had to take care of you.”

“Who’s somebody?” Mox sneers, but his heart isn’t in it. He’s too tired, too beat up and he absolutely feels like he fell out of a building and shattered every bone in his body. All that’s holding him together is the darkness that was poured into him that he’d walled off for so long. Glued back together so he loosely resembles what he’s supposed to be.

“Well, I’m Trent. That was Orange you just heard—well, his real name is James, but nobody calls him that.”

“You doing okay in there?” That third voice again. “If we open the door—like, is that okay?” 

Mox laughs—he’s so far from okay. “If you knew what the fuck was going on in here, you wouldn’t be asking me that.”

Trent’s voice is desperate. “Chuckie, we’ve—there’s got to be something we can do—dude, maybe just try talking to us then. What the fuck  _ is _ going on in there?”

“If I knew, I’d be more than happy to tell you. Or maybe not, I got no fucking clue who you really are or why you shoved me in your bathroom.” Things were hazy between the van and here. He’s got faded memories, like someone stopped developing photos before they were finished. “Far as I can tell. I’ve got a demon holding me together and it ain’t gonna be pretty when it decides a bacon cheeseburger wasn’t enough to eat.”

“Damn, dude. That sucks. I’m sorry. We’re, uh—what was it you called us, OC?” 

Mox hears someone snapping their fingers, like it’s going to help them remember. “Fates! That’s it… at least I think that’s it.”

“Yeah, Fates. We’re Fates. Like that show We Bare Bears, but instead of bears, we’re Christmas ghosts.”

“So which one of you can tell the future?”

“That’s Orange. But it just kinda… comes to him, right bud?”

“Something like that,” the third man answers in a monotone.

“So you can’t tell what’s gonna happen if one of you walks in here?”

“Not really. Don’t know if I want to know.”

“Fuckin’ awesome. Are the ghosts of Christmas present and past any more help than you?”

He hears a pregnant pause from the other side of the door, before the more even-keeled man says quietly, “Well?”

“I don’t know?!” There is some shuffling and then— “Maybe one of us should just go in there. It’s fine. It will be fine.”

“I get the feeling we won’t die,” Orange says.

“Oh, well that’s reassuring, thanks Orange.” A sigh, and then the door creaks open, and Jon is gently nudged.

—

It’s not that it feels good to let go. 

It’s that it feels fucking great. 

That’s always been the problem. The deep well of anger that lives in Kevin’s chest feels like it doesn’t have a bottom sometimes. For a long time, he felt like it was good to embrace it, to let it motivate him. Push himself forward and let all the nasty things people have said to him in the past fuel him. As long as everything that was important stayed important, sheltered in the hardened shell around his heart. And it worked, at least in the short term. Until it started to burn through him. He thinks that’s what makes him the angriest at Adam Cole. The sheer manipulation of his feelings, his anger and his stubbornness. 

There is something to be said for someone with the gall to tempt you back into their life by dangling the promise of getting to cause them bodily harm in front of you. Kevin should push it all down and walk away again, but there is something different about Adam as he stares him down outside the same mansion he’d tracked him to before. It makes him uneasy. 

“What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?” It’s not like he cares, but his curiosity is something just as troublesome as his anger.

“Oh, Kevin,” Adam answers casually, looking up as if he just noticed him. Likely story. “Didn’t think you’d come back… but I did hope I’d be wrong.”

It’s humid, the sun is going down, and it’s quiet. So quiet Kevin can hear his heart beat in his chest and the palm fronds scratch against each other as the breeze blows through them. “You didn’t answer my question.” Breath in, exhale—he imagines Sami’s voice in his head as he does just that.

“Yeah… because it’s a question I should be asking  _ you _ , bud.” Adam walks forward, raising a hand as if to touch Kevin. “But it’s nice to know you still care about me after all. This. Time.”

“ _ I’m _ fine.” Kevin sneers and he feels it deep down in his gut, the sensation of panic, maybe even some emotion he can’t describe rattling something inside of him. He doesn’t lean back, or move away. He stands his ground. “You think I still care? I came because I wanted to tell you to fuck off. I didn’t get a chance the last time I showed up because I was too busy thinking about how fucked up it is that you started some kind of ivy league fight club.”

“Me? You—you think  _ I _ started this?” Adam looks around, incredulous. “No, no, this is all…” He laughs and shakes his head. “This is all William’s idea. William Regal.”

“That old guy in there? This is his? God Cole… how have you gotten even  _ worse _ at lying?”

“Go on. Ask him yourself if you don’t believe me. I’m sure he’ll take  _ good _ care of you… if you agree to fight me tonight.” 

“I’m not fighting you, Cole. I don’t do this kinda shit anymore. I came to tell you to back off. I don’t know why you decided to contact me, but you can take your little fight club and walk straight into the ocean.”

“You couldn’t have just texted me? I know you still know my number.” 

Kevin grits his teeth and balls his fists and tries so hard not to just take a swing at Adam. “Why did you call me in the fucking  _ first place?”  _   
  
“I know you know, because in order to come here, you had to listen to the voicemail. As weird as it felt leaving a voicemail in this day and age…” Adam leans back against the stucco’d wall bordering the mansion’s outer gardens.

“And I’m supposed to believe all this sentimental ‘oh I keep thinking about you’ shit? Sometimes people move on, Adam. You sure as hell did. Fuck, actually—you never did, did you? You’re stuck right where you always were. Trying to take what other people have.” Kevin knows it, he figured it out sometime between meeting all of Adam’s friends and punching him in the face in front of all of them.

“Hey, I never claimed anything different, Kev. Which in my book is being more honest than burying what I actually want deep down and pretending like I’m better now. But hey, what do I know? I’m just the local dumbass.” Adam shrugs before turning to walk back inside.

Kevin swallows hard before he does something he knows he’ll regret later. He reaches forward and grabs Adam’s shoulder, pulling him backward. “If I fucking fight you… will you get this shit out of your system?” He just wants to go back to things being normal. He’s willing to put some things on the line to make that happen.

Adam smiles, his whole body posture relaxing. “Sure, bud. Of course. Just one more, for old times’ sake.”

“Then I’ll fucking see you inside.” 

—

Something inside of him growls, but he takes a deep breath and tamps it down before attempting to shuffle forward, even if it feels like he’s trying to run a mile.

A man with shoulder-length brown hair and a backwards cap looks him up and down before almost compulsively letting out, “Oh, geez, dude… you’re—” but he stops short as the red-haired man, who he can only assume is Orange, elbows him in the gut.

“Yeah. Don’t have to fucking look in the mirror to figure it out.” Jon takes another shuddering breath. “So what are you?”

“Uh, I’m Trent, and I guess I can tell the present? What’s really happening right now. And my boyfriend—is Chuck. He can tell the, uh, past. What things really are deep down.”

“How’d you get stuck with that gig?” Jon squints and he can feel the darkness in his body shift, the blackness melting down to cover the bottom of his jaw and drip down his neck.

“It’s a long story, and it involves a cursed Magic 8 Ball.” Trent shrugs. “Honestly, I’m not even sure I fully understand even now.”

“Shit is fucked up like that.” Jon tries to level his gaze at him. “On a scale of 1 to 10–how bad do I look right about now?” Easy questions. Or at least ones that feel easy.

The man introduced as Chuck bites his lip before clearing his throat and answering. “If I said a 15, would you try to eat me?”

“Let’s be straight about something,” Jon says and he tries to make his movement slow as he leans back against the door. “I don’t wanna eat anyone—but sometimes you don’t get to choose. Right now, I’m just so fucking tired.” He squints. “So is it closer to Alien or Predator?”

“Definitely Alien,” Orange says.

“Yeah, Orange has it.” Trent leans forward. “Sorry, dude. Shit sucks.” 

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Jon’s gonna have to confront the mirror sooner or later, but while his mind is clear he’s got questions. “How much do you know? You been snooping around that hotel for long?”

“Just started when we picked you up a couple days ago. Until then we’ve been, uh, getting visions. Of events.”

“Anyone wanna elaborate on that?” 

“We can’t do shit to fix anything. All we can do is watch and plan accordingly I guess. If we coulda stopped Matt and Nick and maybe even you from going into the creepy sex mansion, we would have. We don’t like it happening anymore than you, dude.” Chuck folds his arms behind his head.

“Yeah, we just, uh. Watch. Whether we want to or not, we have to. But… you’re the first person in all this shit we’ve actually been able to talk to.” Trent fidgets with his baseball cap.

“Did you scrape me off the sidewalk?”

“Yeah, something like that… It was real bad.” Trent winces. “But I don’t have to tell you that.”

“I’m not sure anything was worse than being  _ in _ that place. Not even breaking all the bones in your body.” Jon turns a little deadly serious. He has to be. “If you’re gonna stay in here, sit down. You’re making me nervous.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” Trent immediately does as he’s told, and reaches a hand out to Jon’s monstrous one—before Jon is suddenly sucked out of his current situation and into that awful clanging piano space.

—

Kenny groans as he wakes up, feeling immediately disoriented by the loud sounds of waves. “Where—Adam?” He gropes around him, trying to get his bearings.

“Hey… it’s fine. I just figured you’d probably want some fresh air when you woke up. I’m right here.” Adam’s voice sounds distant for a moment but the hand on his shoulder feels very real. “And I wanted to have some time alone because, well… we haven’t had that in weeks.” 

“Yeah… I feel like my head has been in a million places. Like I barely know who I am any more.” Kenny sighs. “I missed it just being… simple. Us. I mean,” Kenny laughs self-consciously, “not that  _ we  _ were ever simple, but just… I want to feel normal for once. You know?”

“I think we drove right past simple and fell off the cliff into the ocean.” Adam tells him and his tone is joking, but still serious around the edges. “Miami doesn’t do normal. Wouldn’t be even if we weren’t dealing with everything. At least that’s the vibe I’m getting.”

“Yeah…” Kenny takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “So. A balance between the two sides of me. And… fuck, our  _ friends _ . I feel like we’ve lost so much time already—what if they’re already—god, I failed them, didn’t I? I failed them with Bullet Club, and now I failed to even keep them safe—” The more he thinks about it, the more the rage inside him builds along with the anxiety crawling up his spine.

“Hang on.” Adam squeezes his shoulder even tighter. “I know I’m not one to talk, but the self-pity isn’t gonna help anyone right now. It’s not gonna fix anything, it’s not gonna bring Matt and Nick back. It’s just—gonna make you feel hollow. So let’s… talk through it. Bullet Club? I don’t think you’ve ever told me about whatever that is.”

“It was… after I came back from Japan, we decided to set up down here… I wanted to make a dream reality. So we opened up an arcade… a place people could hang out, grab something to drink, and play games. Bullet Club… after Bullet Bill, from Super Mario. You know, the giant flying bullet guy?”

“Yeah.” Adam smiles at him slightly. “I got it. So you opened this place up and? What happened after that?”

“I mean, it went really great for a while. Then… the brothers hired their best friend other than me.” Kenny can’t help the vicious sneer and flash of his eyes as he says the name. “ _ Adam Cole. _ ”

“I think I heard Matt talk about him once. Anything I’m missing there? Sounds like—“ Adam fidgets a little. “Uh, sounds like there is some bad blood.”

“Yeah. Sorry you, uh, share the same name. But I’m pretty sure ‘Adam Cole’ and ‘bad seed’ are right next to each other in the dictionary. I fired him, and I’d hoped that was the end of that, but I should’ve known better.” 

“Not to change the subject or anything, but… do you wanna talk to me about how you know Kenta? He seems like he’s not your biggest fan.” Adam dances around it a little, trying to keep his voice even, Kenny can tell he’s curious. 

Kenny sighs. “God, okay, so. I have made… some  _ mistakes _ in my time. I will admit. I’m not always the best person. It just so happens that, uh… Kenta got a bit screwed over by some bad business decisions on my part. That’s the easiest way to put it, anyway.”   
  
“I mean… no one is perfect? Though sometimes it's easier to say that then it is to forgive someone for something I guess…”

“I mean, I kind of made him an international fugitive or something. By accident. So, yeah, it kind of is my fault, even if I was young and naive… ugh. Visa paperwork.” Kenny rests his head in his hands as he thinks back to the whole mess, the shouting, the asking Kenta to invest money in the failed business venture. “Just thinking about it makes my head hurt.”

“Uhhhh excuse me, what?” Adam gives him a look. “Nevermind. Either way, I think this thing gets solved by us working together so maybe apologizing is a way to start?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, probably.” Kenny sighs. “I know you’re right… much as it makes me anxious to think about it. Just. Don’t be surprised if it ends with him punching me.”

“I won’t let him punch you. It’s fine, we will get it figured out or whatever.” 

“Yeah, in between Adam Cole and… fuck, I just remembered the boys were texting him again and… I don’t want to think about what Miami has turned  _ him _ into.”

“Oof. Well—maybe that’s a place to start. It’s kinda all we got, right? So if you don’t have any reservations about breaking and entering we should maybe go to Matt and Nick’s apartment and play detective.”

“Hey, that—that sounds like a great idea, actually. Figure out what the fuck’s going on.” God, what did Kenny ever do to deserve the people in his life? He can’t help smiling a little at how much Adam cares.

“It doesn’t look like Mox is gonna be back anytime soon with answers and while I don’t have everything under control with Death and all, I think I’ve got a pretty good handle on it. So let's do some investigating and see what we can dig up on our own.” Adam rubs the small of Kenny’s back. “Maybe that will give Eddie some time alone and everyone can just—chill out for awhile.”

Kenny finally allows himself to relax, the flame inside him tamping down to a dull roar. “Yeah. I’m tired of feeling useless.”

“You’re not useless. Just… figuring it out. Can't really help anyone else unless we’re on the right path.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Kenny takes a deep breath before pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. “So. Ready for a little breaking and entering?”

Adam smiles and maybe it’s even a little wicked at the corners. “Hell yeah.”

—

The air is as still as Mox remembers it, and it makes him shiver. At least here, the hunger doesn’t reach him… but that’s less reassuring that he thought it would be.

“Woah. What the hell—you don’t live here, do you?” And weirdly… Trent is still there.

“Shh!” Jon feels the coldness in the air again, much less harsh than before, but still there. “I don’t know why you’re here, but I get the feeling you shouldn’t be.”

“No… no, this isn’t quite it. Is this… where you go? The bad mind palace?” Trent walks around looking, seemingly without a care for his own safety. “Something about this place… it’s like dug deep into your fate. I don’t know how I know that, either.  _ Freaky _ .”

“What…?” Jon furrows his brows at him. “This place is—it’s not any place I live. Had a bad run in with the fae. Your fate powers tell you that?”

Trent looks at him dumbfounded for a second. “What’s a fae?”

“The fae? You know fairies? They aren’t the cutesy things you see in books or movies—they are ancient and eldritch and...I’ve got one in my head to top everything else off. Are you playing back a memory?” 

“Well, so I was wondering where your head was at—what was making things so weird for you. And then I touched you because it looked like, I dunno, maybe you could use some comforting but weren’t feeling a hug? And then… we ended up here.” Trent sits in the chair, perplexed. “This is in your head?”

“Your guess is as fucking good as mine.” Jon glances around, hair on the back of his neck standing up as he looks around for any sign of Jay. “If it ain’t my head we’re in, I don’t know who else it could be.”

The piano music has faded to a distant, fuzzy background noise, and Trent leaps up from the chair suddenly.

“Wait… so you’re a demon… but you have this connection to the fae. Maybe… hmm—maybe that’s what’s keeping you from completely mcfuckin losing it right now? As weird and bad as that sounds. This is what’s in your head right now. We could launch into the demon stuff… if you’re game, I am.”

Jon doesn’t know if he’s game. How can he be? He feels like he’s being held together by strings that are starting to fray. He needs to talk to Eddie… he needs to sort this out. But the only person in front of him is...Trent. “Yeah. I guess we really don’t have a choice.”

“You know, I thought I knew what was up with you, but I guess the TV only shows me part of the deal, huh. Wait. Does this have anything to do with the weird gas station?”

“So you’re really trying to tell me that you watched me walk into a fae liminal space on television?” Mox squints at him.    
  
“Oh, well, when you put it like that it sounds weird, yeah… but that seems to be what we do. We don’t turn into super-powered people, we just… know things. It’s  _ kinda _ frustrating, honestly! So, I’m trying to take what I can get here.” He walks over to Mox, and reaches a hand out, taking Mox’s black hand in his.

It feels like drowning. 

The same way it felt when he was in that damn hotel being pushed to the brink and cracking under the pressure. He should have known better, he shouldn’t have underestimated the way his inner demon can slip between the cracks in your mind no matter how small they are. 

There is white sand beneath his feet, a bright white full moon in the dark sky and… an ocean. No, that’s not right…

The water is ink-black. Thick waves rolling in and dragging the sand back with it. The way the oily water seems to heave makes him shiver. Jon has no idea where this is, or he wouldn’t… if he didn’t see his own house in the distance.

“It’s okay,” Trent says reassuringly, standing next to him, somehow taller than Jon remembers… until Jon realizes he’s in an animalistic crouch, his posture more beast than man. The sharp, oily tang of the ocean makes his nose burn.

“Inside.” Jon feels the harsh echo in his voice when he speaks. “Can’t stay out here.” He doesn’t even know what’s inside that house. Nothing good, but the beach feels too acrid to be out here for too long.

“Right, yeah. Um, after you.” Trent motions ahead.

Jon doesn’t want to go. He’s thinking of a thousand different things that could be in that house, none of them good even if they are in his head. He’s usually fearless, but that’s because he buries it. There is no more room to bury anything. “Yeah…”

“It’s just in your head. It can’t hurt you. Unless you let it,” he hears Trent say, but his mind is floating as he catches a scent on the wind. There’s something… warm. Earthy. Strong-smelling. Ahead.

Whatever it is it eclipses the acidic smell of the black ocean. It urges him forward. He feels like telling Trent that even things in your head can hurt you, but he doesn’t. He takes slow plodding steps toward his own front door.

Whatever’s in there makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

The door creaks open loudly when his clawed hand turns the doorknob; it makes him flinch but he tries not to show it. He hates this. He locks things inside of himself for one reason. 

So they stay locked up. 

Inside, his house is dark, lit only by the glow of an eerie moon. But as soon as he crosses the threshold, there’s an awful low growl. A warning. 

He puts a clawed hand out to stop Trent from going any further, his first instinct is always to stop someone else from walking into a bad situation. “Don’t.” He takes a breath, smelling that smell again that’s turned from earth into—copper. Blood. 

The shadows shift. Or maybe it’s just a trick of light. Except. That growling. 

“Yeah. You got it. I’ll be right. Back here.”

Jon swallows down his fear, just like he always tries to and takes another step forward. “I’m right here. What the hell are you?”

As he steps forward, the shadows shift again, revealing a red-bearded face with bloodshot eyes, low above the ground, as if the other him is on his knees. “Finally… come to let me ffffffrree?” It’s a hoarse mockery of his own voice.    
  


He doesn’t want to look, the skin on his arms crawl and even if he has the urge to look back to Trent, he doesn’t. He  _ can’t. _ “This is in my head. You’re either a ghost or a figment of my imagination. You can stay locked up for as long as I want.”    
  


“Hnnn. That so?” The other him smiles, slowly pulling his lips back to reveal long, pointy canines. An animal’s anxious grin, as it chuckle-growls.

“You can have my face all too want, but you’re not me. You’re the demon that’s in my head, the poison I locked out.” It’s a lie, he knows it is, but he’s gone so long denying it, what’s a little more? Especially when he is staring it in the face.

“Yeah. You’d like me all neat and tidy, locked away for your… convenience.” The demon moves forward, laughing more, and the limb that stretches out of the shadows has long nails that scratch against the hardwood floors. But then again, they aren’t really nails at all. He can try to deny it. But when the long paw-like fingers become clear, and the demon throws back its head, howling as bones crack and stretch into a canine visage, it’s foolish to keep pretending.    
  


He can’t do this. Every limb aches, something dark in his blood sings, and Jon hears the lust demon’s words in his head over and over again. It would just be easier to stop fighting. He’s so tired. His resolve has burned away… gutted out of him like someone has slit him open and watched everything spill out.

Just as he feels the beast bearing down on him, an easy target—

“Get back, you awful sack of bones.” A thud as something collides with the beast, slamming it back against the floor. “Ugh. Time to clean you up… you need a bath.”   
  


That voice…

“O-omega?” Jon doesn’t move, but the moment he makes the connection in his mind he sees purple flame illuminate the darkness, burning away the shadow.

“Who ya gonna call?” The man looks up from where he’s got the beast by the neck, eyes flaring purple. “This isn’t just your fight, after all. And you helped me when I was down… least I could do was return the favor.”

He doesn’t know how any of this works, but he looks over to Trent who’s just looking on about as confused as him. 

“What are you in my head for? How…” He feels the hunger that was rattling around in his belly subside just a bit. “Can you put this thing back in its box?”

“I’m gonna need your help for that. We have to work together. Like the ending to any good movie… the hero finally admits his weaknesses—”

_ “Hey.” _

The voice rumbles from the sky, and Mox’s vision of Kenny starts fading.

_ “Hey, wake up. Hey.” _

“How the hell… Omega you can’t just…” He’s not sure what he needs from Kenny, why he’s even here, but it’s the closest he’s come to feeling relieved in  _ weeks.  _   
  
“Hey. Ugh, Trent. You’re drooling on him. Wake up.” He awakens to the brusque voice of Orange Cassidy as the man shakes him awake.

“Trent!” Chuck’s voice comes next and when he finally comes back to himself he feels Trent being pulled off of him. 

“Ugh—”

“What the hell?” Trent groans next to him as Chuck sets Trent back down.

Jon instinctively rubs at his face and… no claws… at least not on his good hand. The realization startles him awake further, the low growl of demonic hunger dulled enough that he can think. 

“Fuck… did you actually fix it?”

“I don’t know. Did you?” Trent looks at him from where he’s slumped into Chuck’s lap, like he can barely hold his head up.   
  


Jon ponders it for a moment and sighs, chest heaving as he slumps onto the floor. 

  
“I need a drink.”   



End file.
